


Go steady with my head down low

by wearetheluckyones



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Kid Fic, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Kid Fic, M/M, Mpreg, Riding, Rimming, Romance, Smut, graphic depictions of birth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-21 22:45:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 56,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11367186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wearetheluckyones/pseuds/wearetheluckyones
Summary: Harry might be resistant, but the universe will never stop trying to put him and Liam together. It’s their fate; their destiny. They share two halves of one soul, and there’s nothing either of them can do to change it.





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> Title from [Down Low by Alex Winston X Galactic Marvl](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dolHeti7RO8).
> 
> This pain in my arsehole took six months, three mental breakdowns and lots of porn, so... enjoy, I guess?
> 
> This is trash. I am trash.

**Thursday, June 10th, 2010**

Harry meets Liam for the first time in Torquay, in the garden of a B’n’B, The Torcroft, where he and his mother and sister have been staying on holiday. He’s sitting on a bench, trying (though not very hard) to read _A Clockwork Orange_. He hears voices in the otherwise quiet area, a girl and a boy near the back entrance.

Harry knows the girl. Her name’s Tiara or Tia or some other such nonsense, and she’d cornered him in the hallway on Harry’s floor the night before, introduced herself, and then proceeded to hit on him until Gemma had found him and saved him.

By the set of the boy’s shoulders and the look on his face, Harry decides she’s at it again.

He’s glancing around himself, searching for a way out, and he deflates when he comes up empty. Harry suspects that while he can see the boy, the boy can’t see him, and he sighs heavily and stands.

He approaches the pair, but neither notice him until he speaks, turned towards the boy. “Hey, there you are.”

The boy looks confused for only a moment before understanding and relief floods his features, and he says, “Sorry I took so long, I got caught up.”

The girl’s face twists into something ugly and she gets her claws into the boy’s bicep, hard enough that he winces. “Excuse _me_ , we were talking. Would you mind, like, fucking off?”

Harry faces her, head on, squaring his shoulders and crossing his arms over his chest, and he says, “I’d appreciate it if you would take your hands off my boyfriend, _thanks_.”

The girl glares at Harry, and for a few moments, he thinks she’ll argue, or maybe attack him, but instead, she scoffs and says, “Whatever.” She lets go of the boy and storms away.

“Slag!” Harry calls after her, before turning back to the boy. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, uh, thanks.” He says, nodding his head, straightening up. “Sometimes I’m very glad I don’t like girls.”

Harry laughs.

“I’m Liam, by the way.”

Harry smiles kindly. “Harry. Nice to meet you.”

“Thanks for your help again, Harry.”

Harry shrugs. “It’s alright. Just thought you looked like you could use it.”

He gives Liam one last smile, and he’s about to turn back around when he’s caught around the arm.

“She might, like, come back?” Liam says, letting go of Harry, rubbing the back of his neck. “D’you wanna, like, hang out?”

Harry smiles at Liam easily. “Yeah, alright. Was just gonna read, anyway.”

“What should we do, then?”

Harry shrugs. “I was going to go to the aquarium at some point if you’d like to join.” He shrugs again and smiles. “If you’d like to join?”

Liam smiles bright and nods. “Yeah, sounds great. As long as I’m not imposing?”

Harry chuckles and rolls his eyes. “Don’t be silly, I’d spend the day by myself, otherwise.”

“Well, me too, so.”

Harry grins. “Well, come on, then.”

-*-*-

They’re in the Mangroves, giggling like children, creating lives for the fish and acting them out, in the middle of an argument between two stingrays over a rock, when someone approaches them to tell them the aquarium’s closing.

“Thank you.” Harry tells the woman, standing up, holding his hand out to Liam, tugging him up with him.

They’re escorted out of the building, and when the man’s gone, they’re giggling again, falling onto a patch of grass as the sky’s pinking and the sun’s going down.

“That was fun.” Harry says when he can breathe and speak again.

“The thing about the archerfish, that was pretty fucking funny.” Liam giggles, wiping at his wet eyes. “Oh, man.”

They’re set into another long fit of giggles.

“We should do this again, like, hang out.” Liam says, picking at the grass while they watch the sunset.

“Definitely.” Harry agrees. “How about the beach, tomorrow?”

Liam grins. “The beach tomorrow.” He agrees.

-*-*-

**Friday, June 11th, 2010**

Harry and Liam meet in the hotel car park the next morning after breakfast. They take Torbay Road to Livermead Beach while they talk about music and an identical love of singing.

“I reckon you’d be a good rock star.” Liam says, grinning, walking backwards. “Grow your hair out a bit, look just like Jagger.”

Harry laughs. “If you keep walking backwards, you’ll bump into someone, Liam.”

Liam ignores Harry. “I know! You should audition for X-Factor.”

Harry laughs again. “I am. In Manchester.”

“Me too!”

Harry shakes his hand, amused. He’s known Liam for a day, but he’s already Harry’s favourite person. He’s like an excited puppy.

Harry sees a girl walking towards Liam with her eyes on her phone, and pulls him to a stop, out of her path. “I told you.”

“Well, you caught me just in time, didn’t you?”

Liam’s so close. Barely a breath away.

“C’mon.” Liam pulls Harry along with the wrist still in Harry’s hand, down the ramp, onto the sand.

The beach isn’t especially busy for so late in the morning, just a dozen or so families, a few joggers, so Liam and Harry their pick of spots. They lay their towels at the north end, where it’s quieter and less crowded.

They decide to hang out on the sand for a while before they head into the water, laying side by side on their towels in silence until Liam turns his head towards Harry and says, “If we’re going to be best friends, you’ll have to tell me everything about yourself, then.”

Harry laughs. “Who says I want to be your best friend? Maybe I’ve got a best friend waiting for me at home?”

Liam raises an eyebrow. “Well fine, then.”

Harry tucks his arms under his head and turns to look at Liam. “What would you like to know?”

Liam smiles. “Like I said, everything.”

They talk for hours, on the beach and in the water, about everything and anything, until lunch arrives and they pack up and head back, separating on the third floor of the hotel with a hug, joining their families.

-*-*-

**Saturday, June 12th, 2010**

Liam finds Harry while he’s in the garden after lunch, still trying to read _A Clockwork Orange_ , but with even less interest than the last time. Liam falls into the bench beside Harry and plucks the book from his fingers, reading the blurb at the back.

“S’it good?” He asks, handing the book back.

Harry dog-ears his page. “It’s absolutely mental.” He replies, laughing, shaking his head.

“Mental?” Liam asks.

“It’s… I’ll explain it another time.”

Liam nods. “Alright. Do you want to do something, today?”

Harry grins and agrees. “What should we do, then?”

“I dunno? Go to the beach again? There’s the caves, too, and the miniature golf course? The dinosaur exhibit.”

Harry laughs. “You have a list, don’t you, Leemo?”

Liam blushes red and shrugs his shoulders. “Maybe?”

Harry bumps his shoulder with Liam’s, smiling brightly. “How about the miniature golf course?”

Liam agrees. “How about dinner there, too?”

It occurs to Harry, then that this will be their third, well, date. He can’t help what comes tumbling out of his next. “Are these dates?”

Liam’s eyes go wide and his cheeks tint redder. “I…”

“Sorry, that was weird.”

Liam bites his lip. “Uhm, yeah, these can be dates. If you want them to be?”

Harry nods, once, cheeks hot. “Yeah, okay. I’d like that.”

Liam grins.

They spend the afternoon at the golf course, and now that they’ve both agreed that they’re on a date, they’re acting just awful, giggling and joking about until Harry gathers enough courage to fit his hand into Liam’s. And after burgers at a restaurant on the next street, Harry presses a soft, hesitant kiss to Liam’s mouth on the street outside the hotel.

-*-*-

**Sunday, June 13th, 2010**

“Who’s that?” Gemma asks, bringing Harry out of his reverie, staring at someone behind Harry in the Torcroft’s dining hall.

“Who’s who?” Harry asks, turning in his seat to find the object of Gemma’s attention.

Liam’s sitting across the room with his parents, smiling over at Harry, and Harry smiles back, waving his hand at him. “That’s Liam.”

“He’s cute.” Harry’s mum says.

“Have you kissed him yet?” Gemma asks.

Harry turns back to his mum and sister, eyes wide. “Huh? Why would you say that?”

“Because he’s undressing you in his head, right now.” Gemma says, grinning.

Harry’s cheeks go red and he mutters, “Shut up.” And then he says, “Last night.” He turns to look at Liam again, who’s still staring at him. He mouths _garden_ to Liam, and after a moment of frowning, he nods, smiling wide. Harry turns back to his mum and sister. “I’ll see you guys at lunch.”

He stands from the table, heading out to the garden where he sits on the bench to wait.

Liam sits beside Harry when he appears, two Danishes in his hands. “Apple and cinnamon or berry?”

Harry takes the apple and cinnamon with a smiled thank you, kissing Liam’s cheek before taking a bite.

“Wanna go to the Paignton Zoo?” Liam asks, cheeks red. “My mum said she can drive us up to Paignton.”

Harry smiles around the Danish in his mouth and nods his agreement. “Yeah, sounds like fun.” He says once he’s swallowed his mouthful.

Liam’s eyes flick down to Harry’s mouth, which feels sticky and tastes sweet. “Can I kiss you again?”

Harry smiles, leaning forward, pressing their mouths together, curling his fingers in the hairs at the nape of Liam’s neck.

Liam licks into Harry’s mouth, curling his hand around Harry’s bicep and pulling him closer. “You taste good.” Liam sucks the taste of apples and sugar from Harry’s bottom lip.

Harry’s never kissed anyone like Liam before. Hell, he’s never met anyone like Liam.

Liam pulls back, mouth pink and wet. They separate to get ready and meet back up in the parking lot, by Liam’s mum’s car.

It’s a fifteen-minute drive to the zoo, spent in mostly awkward silence, Liam in the front with his mum, Harry in the back, so when they finally arrive, Harry slides out of the car with a quiet sigh of relief. Liam’s mum hands him a couple of notes before he joins Harry and they wave her goodbye.

Liam takes Harry’s hand and leads him to the ticket office, keeping his hold while he pays for their admission.

“So where to first?” Liam asks when they get inside. It’s crowded, but not too much so, families and other couples scattered here and there, filling the front entrance and what Harry can see of the rest of the zoo.

Harry looks down at the map he grabbed from the stand near the ticket office. “We’re close to the flamingo exhibit. If we go down the right path we’ll pass the big cats. After that we can just wander.”

Liam agrees, and Harry tugs him down the right path to the flamingo exhibit.

After a few hours walking, they stop for lunch at the Island Restaurant, giggling at the gibbons the restaurant overlooks as they eat their sandwiches.

Before Liam’s mum arrives to pick them up, and after Liam’s bought Harry a stuffed giraffe from the gift shop (that Harry names Liam, much to human-Liam’s amusement), Harry pulls Liam into a crevice near the wetland birds exhibit and the front entrance. He snogs him until their mouths are sore and wet and red, and Harry’s so hard he thinks he might explode.

-*-*-

**Monday, June 14th, 2010**

After Harry’s mum and sister have gone to sleep, he sneaks out to the floor above, knocking on Liam’s door.

Liam’s half asleep and mostly naked, in a pair of joggers, low enough on his hips that Harry can tell he’s not wearing any briefs underneath.

“Hey, Haz.” Liam says with a yawn, hiding it with his hand. “What’s up?”

“Did I wake you?”

Liam shakes his head, yawning again. “Nah, was just watching telly.”

“Can I join?”

Liam looks shocked for only a few moments before he pushes the door further open to let Harry in.

“What were you watching?” Harry asks, peeking around the room, dark but for the light of the television.

“Just channel surfing.” Liam replies, shutting the door, hesitant before he approaches Harry.

Harry speaks before Liam can, mouth open. “Can I join you on the bed?”

Liam’s mouth shuts with a clack before he chuckles. “Are you propositioning me, Harry?” He jokes.

Harry shakes his head. “No, I just wanna hang out.”

“On the bed.”

Harry chuckles. “Yeah.” He reaches down to tug his jumper up and over his head, leaving it on the floor by his feet, following it with his joggers, leaving him in just his briefs.

Liam’s eyes rake down Harry’s body, and whether it’s subconscious or not, Harry doesn’t know. “Do you always hang out naked?”

“Yes.” Harry grins. “Especially when I’m hanging out with hot boys.” He turns and climbs into the bed, laying down, legs under the blanket, chest bare. “You going to join me?”

Liam climbs onto the bed after Harry, sitting next to him, up against the headboard, reaching over Harry for the remote.

“What do you want to watch?”

Harry props his head up on his hand, staring up at Liam. “I don’t mind.”

Liam blinks down at Harry’s mouth, leaning down to kiss him softly, slowly, running his fingers through Harry’s curls. Liam smells like soap and faint cologne and something sweet, something that has Harry hooked, pulling Liam on top of him. He wraps his arms around Liam’s hips and licks into his mouth while Liam gets a thigh between Harry’s grind into him.

“I thought you said you weren’t propositioning me?” Liam jokes, tilting Harry’s head with the hand in his hair so he can suck a mark into Harry’s skin.

“Forget what I said.” Harry mutters, hands moving down Liam’s back, into the back of his joggers, squeezing Liam’s arse in his hands. “This is much better than telly.”

Liam grinds his hips into Harry’s. He’s hard, and so is Harry, cocks rubbing together between their clothes. “Much, much better.” Liam agrees.

They get off together just like that, snogging and grinding, spilling, coming down together, and falling asleep with Harry curled up against Liam’s side.

-*-*-

**Tuesday, June 15th, 2010**

Harry and Liam separate for breakfast the next morning, joining their families in the dining hall, though they spend the entire time texting, staring at each other and smiling from across the room.

“You guys are being just gross.” Gemma groans, rolling her eyes. Harry’s cheeks tint pink.

“Leave him alone, Gems.” Harry’s mum says, smacking Gemma’s shoulder. “He’s happy. Let your brother be happy.”

Gemma waggles her eyebrows at Harry. “Very, _very_ happy.”

“Shut up, Gemma.” Harry mutters, kicking her in the shin under the table.

“Hey, ow!”

“Stop fighting.” Their mum says firmly, then turns to look at Harry. “Would you like to come walking with me today? I was thinking about the coast path.”

“I was gonna spend the day with Liam.” Harry says hesitantly, like he’s worried he’ll upset her.

“He can come, too.”

Harry looks across the room at Liam. “Why not take Gemma.”

Gemma scoffs. “I got shit to do, little brother.”

“Shit like what?”

“Some guy invited me to a boat party on the Riviera.”

“Can I come?” Harry asks.

“What? No.”

Harry pouts. “Why not?”

“Because you’ll embarrass me?” Gemma says, rolling her eyes like the answer was just so obvious, that the fact he hadn’t figured it out was just ludicrous.

“Gemma, c’mon, you’re not being fair. Let Liam and I come and you can pretend we don’t exist.”

Gemma gets this look on her face Harry can’t name before she sighs and nods. “Fine. If mum and Liam’s parents are okay with it, you can come.”

Harry and Gemma both look at their mum who sighs and shrugs. “I guess. But you’ll take care of them, yeah?”

Gemma nods.

Harry texts Liam, _Wanna go to a party?_

Harry watches Liam for his reaction, watches him look back at Harry and smile, text _yeah_.

_Gemma’s taking us. Says you have to ask your mum and dad first._

Harry watches Liam look down at his phone, then back up at his parents, mouth moving.

Harry smiles at his mum and sister. “He’s asking them now.”

“Maybe you can go make nice with your son’s future in-laws while we’re at the party, mum.” Gemma jokes, grinning brightly.

“Oh, it’s serious, now, is it?”

“No. Gem, shut up. Jesus, he’s just…” Harry’s mum and sister both grin, and he realises they’re taking the piss out of him. “Leave me alone.”

Liam appears suddenly, with his parents behind him, nervous, rubbing the back of his neck, smiling at Harry gently. “Hey, they wanted to, like, meet your mum and sister?”

It turns out that Harry’s mum and Liam’s parents get along very well, particularly their mums, and finally, Liam’s mum lets him go to the party with Harry and Gemma.

They meet Gemma’s friend in the parking lot, a man, maybe twenty-one or twenty-two, with sandy blonde hair and a thick Geordie accent.

“Who’re the kids?” He asks Gemma, confusion, and something close to disdain on his face.

“My brother and his boyfriend. They’re cool.”

The guy nods hesitantly before leading them to a black SUV.

The party’s on a huge, expensive yacht on the Riviera. They seem to be the last of the guest, because when they’re on board, it sets off, away from the harbour.

Gemma and her friend leave Liam and Harry to it, but they’re fine with that, being alone. They prefer it.

“Want a drink?”

Liam smiles. “Coke, can’t drink alcohol.”

“C’mon, your parents know you’re at a party, they had to have known you’d drink.”

“Only got one kidney, babe. I literally _can’t_ drink.”

Harry frowns. “Oh, okay. I’ll stay sober with you, then. Coke, you said?”

Liam pulls Harry close, pressing a soft kiss to his mouth. “Thank you.”

They hang out, by themselves, in a little nook on the front deck, away from the crowd, and it’s nice.

The party ends late at night, the yacht pulling into the dock after midnight.

Gemma’s friend is too drunk to drive them back, but the walk isn’t long. Gemma walks ahead of them, singing so loud Harry thinks she’ll wake the whole neighbourhood.

They stop at the McDonalds just a few streets from the hotel, and by the time they’ve gorged themselves with burgers and fries, they’re all yawning.

Back at the hotel, Liam help Harry get Gemma up to bed before they do the same in Liam’s room.

“What your sister said, about me being your boyfriend, is that… okay?” Liam asks when they’re in bed with the television on low, curled around Harry’s back.

Harry hums, curling his fingers in Liam’s on his belly. “Yeah. Yeah, definitely.”

-*-*-

**Wednesday, June 16th, 2010**

“I’m too tired to go anywhere today.” Harry mumbles into Liam’s chest, Liam’s fingers in his hair, combing through his curls. “Can we just stay in?”

“Yeah, alright. Day in bed, I’m cool with that.” Liam chuckles. “I’ll just go get breakfast, first.”

“Breakfast?”

Liam grins. “I’ll charm Sharon and Carl into letting me bring plates up.”

Harry grins right back. “Can I have an American? And some tea?”

“So very, very demanding.” Liam says, sliding off the bed and leaning down to press a kiss to Harry’s mouth. “I’ll be right back, and then a day in bed.”

After putting on a jumper and a pair of joggers, he disappears out the door, leaving Harry alone in his bed. He reaches over for his phone on the bedside table and opens a new text message to his mum.

_Just letting you know I’m fine, not hungover, didn’t drink anything, just spending the day with Liam. Meet for dinner?_

He must fall asleep because suddenly he’s opening his eyes to Liam holding a mug of tea in front of his face.

“You’re absolutely wonderful, you are.” Harry says, sitting up and taking the mug from Liam.

Liam gets on the bed in front of Harry with the plates and his own mug of tea, taking a sip. One of the plates has his bacon, pancakes and ice cream on it, the other, Liam’s Full English.

They eat, debating over what to do for the day, arguing over who gets the last piece of bacon from Harry’s plate before Liam gives it up and then licks the taste from Harry’s mouth.

Harry grinds his hips up into Liam’s, fingers dug into the flesh of Liam’s hips, moaning into his mouth. After Liam’s licked all the syrup from Harry’s tongue, he mouths along Harry’s cheek and throat and collarbone, all the way down to Harry’s belly.

“Shit, Liam, where are you going?”

Liam raises an eyebrow at Harry. “Where do you think I’m going? To Wonderland?”

Harry snorts. “Sassy.” He reaches down and runs his fingers through Liam’s hair. “Have you done it before?”

“A few times.” Liam admits, curling his fingers under the hem of Harry’s briefs. “This okay?”

“Absolutely.”

Liam tugs Harry’s briefs down his thighs, pulling them from his legs and throwing them onto the floor. Harry climbs up onto his elbow and watches as Liam takes his cock in hand, jerking it twice before fitting his mouth around the head.

Harry falls back against the bed and groans out Liam’s name.

Liam’s tongue licks out at the slit of Harry’s dick, hand squeezing around the base.

Harry’s not had a blowjob like this, hot and wet and tight, and his entire body feels like it’s on fire. He’s got his fingers curled tightly in Liam’s hair, tugging hard because he can’t move his hips, not with the way Liam’s pressing them into the mattress.

“Please, Liam, I don’t want to come, yet. Just wait.”

Liam pulls off, mouth pink and wet and totally obscene, and grins. “Alright, then, how do you want to come?”

Harry bites his lip, cheeks tinting pink and skin burning hot. “When you’re in me if that’s okay?”

Liam nods vigorously, climbing back up Harry’s body, pressing a kiss to Harry’s mouth. “Yeah, yeah, just. Give me a moment, gotta…” he reaches over Harry and pulls open the top bedside table drawer, coming back with a tube of lube, throwing it onto the bed before searching through the drawer again. “Shit, I don’t have a condom.”

“I don’t care.” Harry says, shaking his head, getting his hands into the back of Liam’s joggers to push them down.

Liam pulls away from Harry and tugs down his pants so he’s naked, too; hard and red at the tip. “So, I’ve never actually topped, just so you know.”

Harry shrugs his shoulders, grinning. “Well, I’ve never bottomed, so.”

“We could swap.”

Harry shakes his head. “No, I want you to fuck me. And I know you want to, too.”

Liam nods, leaning down to kiss Harry. “Yeah.”

“How about I ride you, yeah? Make you watch me finger myself, get myself ready for your cock.” Harry mumbles into Liam’s mouth.

“Jesus, yeah.”

Harry finds the lube in the sheets and pushes Liam onto his knees. “No touching.”

Liam pouts and Harry just giggles at him, pouring lube all over his fingers.

He fits the first finger inside his hole, and it’s weird. The angle’s weird and it feels weird, but with the way Liam’s watching him, the heat in his eyes, the flush that reaches from his cheeks, down his neck and chest, and the twitching of his cock, Harry can’t find it in himself to care.

He doesn’t take his time, or tease, he doesn’t want to keep either of them waiting, not when Liam’s so close Harry can practically feel Liam’s heat bleeding into his own skin.

He pulls his fingers from his hole and wipes the lube from them in the sheets before climbing up to his own knees in front of Liam.

Without words, their mouths meet, and they swap positions so Liam can lie back and Harry can climb into his lap.

“Okay?” Harry asks, lying on Liam’s chest, elbows on either side of Liam’s head.

Somehow, Liam manages to roll his eyes and raise an eyebrow at the same time, and it makes Harry giggle. “How can I say _get on my dick, already_ nicely?”

Harry snorts, sitting up on his knees and reaching back to take a hold of Liam’s cock, pressing the head against his hole. “And you call me demanding?”

The head of Liam’s cock squeezes into Harry’s hole after just a bit of pushing, tugging a groan from Liam’s throat. “Jesus Christ, Harry.”

The pain’s strong, but not excruciating, and Harry can push through it, with only minimal wincing.

“You okay?” Liam asks when he’s finally in to the root, Harry’s arse pressed to his hips.

“Yeah, fine, babe.” Harry replies, smiling at him. “Just a little pain, easily manageable.”

Harry puts a hand on Liam’s thigh and uses that as leverage to lift his hips, pulling up on Liam’s cock before sliding back down slowly, so slowly. He builds a rhythm, slow and steady and deep, back arching, short little noises spilling from his mouth on every thrust.

Liam takes it for only so long, Harry’s slow pace, before he curls his arms around him and pulls him down, closer, getting his legs up underneath Harry to fuck up into him.

“Hey, I thought I was fucking you.” Harry mumbles, voice hitching with every one of Liam’s thrusts.

“You were going too slow.” Liam breathes into Harry’s neck, squeezing Harry’s arse cheeks. “Shit, you feel so good, Haz.”

Harry whimpers into Liam’s throat and lifts his head to kiss Liam. “C’mon, you’re going just as slow as I was, fuck me proper.”

Liam chuckles, rolling his eyes at Harry and repositioning his legs so he can fuck his hips up harder, cock sliding up into Harry and back out again, over and over again. Harry can do little more than mouth at Liam’s flesh and squeeze his hole around Liam’s cock.

Once Harry gets a hand around his cock, it doesn’t take long for him to get close to coming, not with the way Liam’s fucking him, hard and fast and so, _so_ good.

Liam comes before he can, then, hips stuttering, come spilling inside Harry, who follows only seconds later, spilling over his fist, onto Liam’s belly.

Harry’s sweaty and exhausted, panting into Liam’s throat, too lazy to move a single muscle. Liam seems to understand, because he rolls them over and pulls out of Harry without making him move, pressing a kiss to his mouth before he’s standing up and finding a clean hand towel in the cupboard, wetting it in the sink and wiping at his belly and soft cock.

He climbs back onto the bed and cleans Harry up before throwing the towel on the floor and curling around Harry’s side, catching Harry’s hand in his own, threading their fingers together.

“Alright?”

Harry kisses Liam, curling his free hand around his cheek. “Better than.”

-*-*-

**Thursday, June 17th, 2010**

“Okay, okay, c’mon, our parents will come looking.” Harry says between kisses, pressed up against the back of Liam’s hotel room door by Liam’s mouth and hands and hips. They have to meet their families for lunch, but it seems Liam would much rather snog, and Harry can’t say he disagrees.

“Don’t care.” Liam mumbles, curling his fingers through Harry’s hair and tugging his head to the side to kiss him harder. “Rather stay right here. Fuck you again.”

Harry chuckles. “Horny, aren’t you?” Is all he says.

“I will always be horny for you. Until I’m old and grey and you have to ride me every time we have sex because my hips are broken.”

Harry’s silent for a moment, staring at Liam, before he falls into a fit of giggles. “What the fuck, you’re so fucking weird.”

“You love it.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “C’mon, I’m hungry.”

Liam pouts. “Fine. Want a piggy back?”

Harry grins and kisses Liam. “Fuck yes.” He says, turning Liam around and jumping up onto his back. “Onward, valiant steed!”

“Fuck off.” Liam jokes before he’s letting them out of the hotel room and carrying him down the hallway, and then down the stairs.

Their families are waiting in the carpark, and Gemma’s first to see them, miming vomiting while Harry’s whispering something decidedly not nice or innocent into Liam’s ear.

“Lovely, Gemma.” Harry’s mum says, rolling her eyes before turning to Harry and Liam to smile at them. “Hello boys, nice of you to join us.”

Liam’s mum giggles and smacks Harry’s mum’s shoulder like she’s just said something dirty.

“Look at that, they already have inside jokes, Haz.” Liam says, laughing. “A proper – whatsit? The female version of a bromance?”

“I dunno? A womance?” Harry says, shrugging his shoulder.

They walk to a restaurant on the Riviera and Harry hops down from Liam’s back before they head inside, taking the table his mum had called ahead for.

Harry tucks his leg over Liam’s under the table and threads their fingers together, listening to the conversation Liam and his father are having about the upcoming Wolverhampton/West Hampshire game on the fifteenth of July.

“Maybe Harry would like to come?” Liam’s dad says, catching Harry’s attention.

“Harry, at a football game?” Gemma snorts.

“ _Gemma_.” Harry’s mum says warningly as Harry kicks Gemma’s shin under the table.

“But this is Harry we’re talking about.” Gemma says, glaring at Harry. “I love you, little brother, but sport is _not_ your thing.”

“I’ll come. If you’d like me to?” Harry tells Liam, shrugging his shoulders.

“Yeah?”

Harry nods. “Yeah, course.” And then he smiles. “You’ll have to go somewhere I want after that.”

Liam grins. “Deal.”

The waitress appears to take their orders and the topic changes again.

-*-*-

**Friday, June 18th, 2010**

“C’mon, hurry up.” Harry begs, whining, tugging at Liam’s t-shirt, still on, while everywhere else is naked. “Gemma will come looking for us, you gotta _hurry the fuck up_.”

They’re in a public toilet in the miniature golf course, and really, this is Harry’s worst idea yet, but also his best, if Liam would just _get the fuck in him_.

“This is a really bad idea.” Liam mumbles, getting closer, between Harry’s legs where he sits on the cold, hard, tiled bench. He pushes into Harry anyway, hands tight around Harry’s hips.

Harry sits back against the mirror and whimpers as Liam fucks into him, his eyes falling shut and his hands pulling harder at Liam’s t-shirt. “C’mon, Li, fuck me harder.”

Liam’s lips find Harry’s, and he kisses him hard and wet and hot, fucking into him harder and deeper. “Better?” Liam asks, cock brushing up against Harry’s prostate on almost every thrust.

Harry’s agreeing hum is interrupted by a hitched moan on a particularly hard thrust. “Yeah, like that.”

“ _Yeah, like that_.” Liam mimics, giggling like a little kid, like he’s saying something dirty, not currently fucking someone.

“You’re such a dickhead.” Harry tells him, amused, groaning when Liam hits his prostate again. “Why do I even like you?” Liam grins and waggles his eyebrows, and Harry groans and rolls his eyes in amusement. “You’re such a fucking dork.”

Liam leans forward and kisses Harry again, licking into his mouth. “So are you. We make a good couple, don’t you think?”

Harry reaches a hand between them and wraps it around his cock, jerking it with Harry’s thrusts. “I’m so close, c’mon, harder.”

Liam snorts, rolling his eyes. “God, you’re so bloody demanding. If I fuck you any harder, I’ll break something.” Nonetheless, he picks up the speed and force of his thrusts until the slapping of skin is so loud it almost drowns out Harry’s loud, hitched whimpers.

Suddenly someone’s knocking on the bathroom door, but Harry’s so close, he _doesn’t give a fuck_. Liam doesn’t seem to care either, face pressed into Harry’s throat, panting into his skin.

“Keep going, keep going, c’mon, please.” Harry whimpers into Liam’s ear.

Harry comes, groaning Liam’s name, just before Gemma groans on the other side of the door. “You’re so fucking gross!”

Liam comes right after him, spilling up inside him, kissing him softly.

Once they’ve come down and they’ve pulled apart with one last kiss and Harry stands with jelly legs, and Liam has to help him.

“Are you okay?”

Harry laughs. “Am I okay? Yes, I’m okay, dickhead. I can’t feel my legs, I’m better than okay.”

Liam rolls his eyes. “You’re just saying that.” He jokes, finding a pair of briefs from the ground, tugging them up his legs.

“Those are mine, y’know?” Harry snorts, finding the other pair of briefs and putting them on nonetheless.

When they’re both dressed, they find their families again and ignore the looks Gemma gives them.

-*-*-

**Saturday, June 19th, 2010**

Harry’s not sure what time it is, but he knows it’s late – or early, as the case may be. The room’s lit up by the television, old reruns of EastEnders, and it illuminates Liam’s skin where he sleeps beside Harry.

They’ve only got two days left before Harry and his mum and sister head back to Holmes Chapel, and Harry’s dreading it. He knows he’ll be able to talk to Liam whenever he wants, and he’ll see him on the fifteenth, but…

Harry tucks himself further into Liam’s chest, and he pulls Harry closer in his sleep.

“Stop thinking so loud.” Liam mumbles. Not asleep, then.

“Am I keeping you awake?” Harry chuckles softly, pressing a kiss to Liam’s throat.

“No, was awake, anyway.” Liam replies, running his fingers down Harry’s spine until he shivers. “What were you thinking about, anyway?”

“Things.” Is all Harry says.

“Things.” Liam repeats, amusement in his voice, his fingers brushing over Harry’s bare arse. “Are you okay?”

“Fine, why would I be?”

“Just checking.” Liam says, kissing the top of Harry’s head. “This won’t change. Us. When we leave.”

“Are you psychic or summat?” Harry snorts, leaning up to kiss Liam in thanks. “It won’t.”

“Promise.”

Harry rolls on top of Liam and kisses him again. “Promise.”


	2. Part Two

**Saturday, July 10th, 2010**

_I miss you_

Harry smiles softly at the text from Liam.

_Come visit me?_

Harry chuckles and opens up a new text. _Can’t. Sick._

Harry waits for Liam’s reply, rolling onto his other side, swallowing the wave of nausea that hits him after the movement.

_I can come visit you? Play nurse?_

_Yes, please._

_Getting ready now, I’ll be there in an hour._

Harry uses the hour and twenty minutes it takes Liam to drive from Wolverhampton to Holmes Chapel to sleep, or at least try to. He wakes to a body sliding into the bed behind him, arms wrapping around Harry’s waist, the smell of Liam’s cologne.

“Hey, baby, how’re you feeling?”

Harry shrugs. “Just a little sick. A bug or summat.”

“Do you want me to get you anything? Some food? Something to drink?” Liam asks, running his fingers over Harry’s belly, under his t-shirt.

“No. Just stay here with me,” Harry replies, curling his fingers through Liam’s on his skin. “Just nap with me.”

“Okay, baby.”

Harry slips into a dreamless sleep, and stays that way for a few hours until hunger wakes him up. Liam’s not in the bed anymore, but the sheets are still warm and there are voices on the other side of his bedroom door. He can’t hear the words, but he knows the voices belong to his mum and Liam. He climbs off the bed and pulls on the pair of joggers he finds on the floor nearest to the bed, joining them in the hallway.

“Stop talking about me.” Harry says, ending with a yawn, draping himself across Liam’s back.

“How’re you feeling?” His mum asks as Liam curls his fingers in Harry’s, where they rest around his pecs.

“Hot.”

She reaches her hand up and lays the back of it against Harry’s forehead, humming. “You haven’t got a fever.”

“Are you hungry, darling?” Liam asks, kissing the back of Harry’s hand.

“Do we have any avocado?”

Harry’s mum smiles and nods. “Avocado on toast?”

“With eggs and ham. Do we have any apricots? No, not apricots; peaches. Do we have any peaches?”

Harry’s mum chuckles. “You want avocados, eggs, ham and _peaches_? At the same time?”

“No.” Harry says. Then, “Yes.”

His mum and Liam laugh at Harry, but once downstairs, make harry what he wants to eat, nonetheless, toast with avocado, sliced ham and a fried egg, peaches on the plate next to it.

After Harry’s eaten, he and Liam curl up on the couch to watch the telly.

“How’re you feeling?” Liam asks after a while, running his fingers through Harry’s hair.

“Stop asking me, I’m fine.”

Liam laughs, kissing the top of Harry’s head. “Alright. I just worry because I love you.”

And Harry’s too tired to say anything more than, “I love you, too.”

-*-*-

**Monday, July 12th, 2010**

“You need to go to the doctor, honey, you’ve been sick for days.” Harry’s mum says, running her fingers through Harry’s hair, holding a wet face cloth to his forehead as he throws up violently into the downstairs toilet. “Oh, honey.”

Harry’s throat feels like it’s on fire, and his head feels like it’s going to explode, and Harry just fucking _wishes it would stop_.

When the vomiting finally subsides, Harry’s mum hands him a glass of water and wipes his face with the face towel while he drinks.

“How do you feel?”

Harry finishes the water and puts the cup down on the floor tiles. “Better.”

“I’m gonna make you some ginger tea and call Dr Alvarez, okay? I want you to lie down while I do. Rest.”

Harry nods, and his mum helps him stand and gets him onto the couch, throwing a blanket over him before she disappears to call the doctor’s office. He naps while he waits for her to return.

“Dr Alvarez can fit you in today, darling, in an hour. Sit up and drink your tea.” She says, helping him sit up and handing him the mug of tea. When he starts to drink, she says, “There you go, baby. Keep drinking and then we’ll get you ready to go out.”

She stays on the couch next to him while he drinks, arm around his shoulders, running her fingers through his hair. He feels calmer after the tea’s gone, much less nauseous, less headachey, and he tells her so.

“Good.” She checks her watch and hums. “Sleep some more, baby, I’ll come get you before we have to leave.”

Harry nods and hands her the mug, laying back down under the blanket.

After another nap, he and his mum get to the medical centre for his appointment. He’s still in his pyjamas, joggers, a t-shirt and a hoodie, wearing his mum’s purple slippers. He naps again on her shoulder until his name’s called.

Dr Xiomara Alvarez is a Hispanic woman in her late fifties, with a kind smile and bright eyes, and she’s been Harry’s doctor since the day he was born.

“Harry, Anne, how are you both?”

“I’m not too bad, Xiomara. And you?” Harry’s mum replies, smiling at the doctor.

“Not too bad, not too bad. Now, Harry, I hear you’re not feeling very well.” Dr Alvarez says, turning to smile kindly at Harry.

“Yeah.” He agrees. “Just like the flu or summat, I reckon. A bit of vomiting, nothing else, really. Mum’s just worrying too much again.”

“He sleeps for at least eighteen hours out of the day, and the vomiting, it’s just _awful_.” Harry’s mum says. “And he’s been having hot flushes. A fever, maybe.”

Dr Alvarez nods. “We’ll take your temperature first, then get blood and urine samples.”

Harry agrees and watches the doctor pull out her thermometer and place a plastic cover over the earpiece. Harry leans forward and she puts the thermometer in his ear.

After a beep, she pulls it away and smiles at Harry. “Temperature’s normal. Thirty-eight exactly.”

After that, she takes blood and instructs Harry to go to the bathroom and pee in the jar she gives him, before telling them she would call with the results the next day.

When Harry and his mum get home, Harrys goes straight back to sleep.

-*-*-

**Tuesday, July 13th, 2010**

When Harry’s mum gets home from work the next day, Harry hasn’t moved from his spot at the kitchen table, phone clutched in his hands, staring into space.

“Harry? Harry, honey, what’s wrong?” She asks, dropping her bag on the bench and taking the seat next to him, prying the phone from his fingers. “Did Dr Alvarez call?”

Harry nods mutely.

“Well? What did she say?”

“I thought she was joking, first. It just seemed so fucking ridiculous, but then she wasn’t laughing, and…” Harry’s head falls onto the table with a thick clunk.

Harry’s mum rubs his back comfortingly and says, “Tell me what happened, baby.”

“I’m… shit, she says I’m pregnant.”

His mum’s hand stops on his back. “Oh, honey.”

Harry flings himself into her arms, crying into her shoulder, sobbing.

“It’s okay, baby, it’s okay.”

“I don’t understand how it’s even possible.” Harry sobs, breath hitching. “This… shit like this just doesn’t fucking happen. It’s like a SciFi movie.”

“It does, it’s just very, very rare.”

Harry sits up and stares at his mum with his mouth open. “What?”

She grimaces. “Your grandfather’s brother, George, he had a baby. It’s sort of a family genetic abnormality.”

“Abnormality.” Harry says, voice monotone, quiet. “I’m abnormal.”

His mum winces again. “No, baby, you’re not.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? Especially when I told you I was gay?”

His mum sighs. “Because the chances of you actually having the gene were so minimal, I just didn’t see the point. The genetics professor your cousin, your great uncle’s son, spoke to, said the likelihood of it reappearing for another five or more generations was almost impossible.”

“Mum, what am I gonna do?” Harry lays his head on the table again, groaning. “I’m sixteen and pregnant, I’m the worst cliché in the world.”

“Harry, you need to tell Liam.”

“What? No! No fucking way!” Harry cries, flying out his chair and backing up against the cupboards. “Liam is _not_ to know, got it? And Karen. If you tell Karen, I swear to god I will never speak to you again.”

His mum sighs. “Alright, then, what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to… I’m going to…” Harry puts his head in his hands. “I’ll have an abortion.”

“Alright, if that’s what you want.”

“No, no.” Harry shakes his head. “I’ll give the baby up for adoption.”

“Okay, whatever makes you happy.”

Harry sobs. “No. Can’t do that either.”

Harry’s mum stands and pulls Harry into a fierce hug. “Do you want to keep the baby, darling?”

Harry nods, and lets out another sob into his mum’s shoulder.

“Alright, it’s alright, we’ll figure something out, sweetheart.”

“I have to… I have to break up with Liam before he figures it out.”

His mum frowns, and she looks like she wants to say something, but she stays quiet, which Harry’s grateful for.

-*-*-

**Wednesday, July 14th, 2010**

Gemma appears the next day, sitting next to Harry on his bed, running her fingers through his hair until he wakes, blinking up at her and yawning.

“Hey, little brother, mum told me what happened yesterday.” She says, voice quiet. Her hand’s cool and it feels nice on his hot skin; soothing.

“Mum already tried.” He tells her. “I’m not changing my mind.”

“I’m not here to change your mind, Haz. I’m here to be there for you, whatever you need.”

Harry gives his sister a small grateful smile. “Thank you, Gems.”

“Mum’s making couscous. You like couscous.” Gemma runs her fingers through his fringe again. “Do you want to come downstairs, Haz?”

“Yeah.” He replies, sitting up, watching Gemma stand and taking her outstretched hands to stand himself.

They join their mum downstairs in the kitchen, sitting down at the table while she finishes the couscous and chicken kebabs.

Suddenly, a phone is ringing on the kitchen bench, and Harry realises it’s his.

His mum picks it up and blinks at the display for a second before she looks over at Gemma, and then at Harry. “It’s Liam, again.”

“Again?” Harry asks, frowning.

“He’s been calling on and off all day.” Gemma answers softly.

Harry stands and takes the phone from his mum, answering it as he’s walking out to the front porch. “Hey, Liam.”

“Harry, are you alright? I’ve been trying to call all day.” Liam says, almost frantic.

“I’m fine, Liam, I’ve been sleeping.” Harry replies, sitting down on the front steps.

“Are you still sick?”

“Yeah.” Harry replies. “Look, I don’t think I’ll be able to come tomorrow.”

“Yeah, Harry, that’s alright.”

Harry sighs. “Look, Liam, I have to say something, okay? And I need you to understand that it’s for your own good.”

“Okay?”

“Liam, I’m not auditioning for X-Factor.”

“Okay?” Liam repeats.

“So we need to break up.”

“What? Why?”

Harry takes a deep breath. “Because you don’t need me hanging off you, okay? Liam, you’re gonna be so, so famous, and you don’t need me.”

“Goddammit, Harry.” Liam says. “I don’t understand, I do need you.”

“No, you don’t. Don’t make this any harder, Liam, please.”

“Make this harder? You’re breaking up with me because you think this’ll be too hard?” Liam says, angry. Harry’s glad, he wants Liam to be angry with him, it’s better than him thinking it’s his fault. “Fuck’s sake, Harry, I’m in love with you!”

Harry winces. “I know.”

“You know? You know? Fuck you, Harry.” Liam hangs up.

Harry sobs and flings his phone across the yard, his head falling into his hands. A hand appears on his shoulder, and then another appears in his hair, and his mum and sister fall onto the porch steps next to him, holding him close while he cries.

-*-*-

**Sunday, July 18th, 2010**

“I might go stay with nan and pop.” Harry tells his mum, scratching his shoulder, looking down at the kitchen tiles. “For, uh, for a while. Once it gets too hard to hide.”

His mum nods, though she looks hesitant. “Alright, if that’s what you want, sweetheart.”

“I want this to not be happening, I want Liam back, I want to stay with you in Holmes Chapel, but I don’t get what I want anymore.”

His mum frowns. “Why would you say that, Harry? You have a choice. You always have a choice.”

“This is happening, whether I want it to or not, and even if I was still with Liam, there’s no way he’d stay with me once he found out. And I can’t stay here because I don’t want anyone to know.” Harry sighs, running his hands over his face. “I’m tired, I’m going to go take a nap.”

Before his mum can speak, he’s getting up off the dining chair and heading upstairs, shutting his bedroom door after himself. He finds his iPod and earphones, drowning everything out with music. He opens up his laptop and logs into Facebook.”

It’s mostly the usual bullshit, but there’re a few talking about football, and some more talking about the X-Factor, and it just makes him more upset. He ignores it all in favour of his messages.

There’s one from Gemma, from last night, when she’d gone back to Manchester, just an _I love you Hazzabear_ , and a million and one hearts.

Another’s from his friend Hannah, _How was your holiday?_ , from a week after they got back from Torquay.

And the last’s from a girl named Nicola, and with a jolt, Harry realises it’s Liam’s sister. _You’re an absolute arsehole. Liam’s fucking wrecked because of you. Go fuck yourself_

Harry shuts his laptop and pushes it away, crossing his arms over his chest and biting at his thumbnail, blinking away the tears that threaten to spill.

Harry sighs and pulls his laptop forward again, pulling it open and clicking into settings. Before he can change his mind, he deactivates his account. When it’s done, he sighs again, this time in relief. Though for what, he doesn’t know.

-*-*-

**Saturday, September 11th, 2010**

“It’s weird to look at.” Harry tells Gemma, shirt lifted so he can stare at the little curve of his belly in the mirror at the back of her dorm room door. “Dr Alvarez says it’s about the size of an olive. Does that look like a fucking olive to you?”

Gemma laughs, lounging on her bed. “No, not really. Maybe this whole baby thing is a ruse, maybe you’re just getting fat.”

“Hey!” Harry cries, letting go of his t-shirt so it slips back down over his belly. “Bitch.”

“Stop arguing.” Their mum says, pushing through the door with two full shopping bags. “I told you two to play nice while I was out.”

“We _were_ playing nice, mum, until Gemma called me fat.”

“Gemma.” Their mum says, exasperated. “Apologise.”

“I didn’t actually mean it, mum. I was joking.”

“Apologise.” Their mum repeats.

“Sorry, Harry.”

When their mum isn’t looking, Harry pokes his tongue out at Gemma. 

“If you need anything else,” Their mum says, setting the shopping bags on Gemma’s bed, beginning to pull things out. “Call me and I’ll bring it to you or put the money in your bank if I can’t come up.”

“Mum, I’ve been in Uni for a year now and you’ve said the same thing every semester. I know.”

“Fine, we’ll leave you be, then.” She looks a little hurt at that.

“Mum, you know I didn’t mean it like that.” Gemma replies, frowning.

The hurt look slips from their mum’s face, and she grins. “You’re so gullible, Gemma.”

Gemma pouts. “Mum, that’s mean.”

Harry gives Gemma a smug grin. “Mum, we gotta go, anyway, I’ve a doctor’s appointment in an hour. It takes forty minutes to get home.”

“Got it. Got it.” His mum says before kissing Gemma on the forehead. “Love you, Gems.”

“Love you, too, mum. Hate you, Harry.” Gemma replies, and then tacks on, “Love you Mini-Harry.”

Harry laughs and reaches over to give Gemma a hug. “I love you, too, Gemma.”

He and his mum leave after that, heading through the university campus, making their way back to the carpark where his mum’s car is.

He sees a familiar figure, and for such a long moment, Harry actually thinks it’s Liam, standing in the parking lot holding some girl’s hand, and it sends him into a panic attack.

“Harry, darling, what’s wrong?” Harry points across the lot to the boy, hand shaking, and his mum gathers him in her arms and says, “It’s okay love. It’s not him. _It’s not him_.”

Harry _knows_ it’s not Liam, fuck, he _does_ , it’s just so fucking _hard_ , and he misses Liam so goddamned _much_.

“I’m so sorry, baby.”

-*-*-

**Saturday, October 9th, 2010**

“C’mon, give it a try, Haz.” Gemma says, waving a glass of orange juice under Harry’s nose, grinning brightly. “It might work, y’know?”

Harry rolls his eyes and takes the glass with a, “Fine.”

He drinks the whole glass and then hands it back to Gemma. And then they wait.

“Anything?”

Harry sighs and shakes his head. “No. Nothing.”

“Holy shit!”

Harry stares wide-eyed at Gemma and says, “Did mum just swear?” Before both of them are running into the lounge room.

“Mum? What’s wrong?”

Their mum’s standing in front of the TV, one hand on the remote, the other over her mouth, eyes wide.

When Harry sees what she’s staring at, he gets it, though he wished he didn’t.

On the TV, is Liam. Well, Liam and a few other boys. They’re singing Viva La Vida, and in a moment, he’s swearing to never listen to the song ever again. “Turn it off, mum. _Turn it off_.”

Butterflies flutter in his belly as his mum fumbles to get the television off as fast as she can, but the damage is done.

“Harry…”

“I’m going to bed.” He says, turning on his heel and walking out of the room, up the stairs to his bedroom.

He curls up under the blankets and places a gentle hand on his belly, sighing. “I’m sorry, baby.”

-*-*-

**Thursday, October 28th, 2010**

“So, you get to learn the gender today, are you excited?” The OB/GYN asks Harry, smiling brightly. Her name’s Dr Alice Jordan, and she’s in her thirties. Harry’d been hesitant, going to another doctor other than his GP, but she’s lovely, and she’d come highly recommend by Dr Alvarez.

“Yeah.” Harry nods, looking up at his mum, smiling. She smiles back and runs her fingers through his curls.

Dr Jordan pours cold blue gel on Harry’s belly and spreads it around with the transducer, blinking at the ultrasound display as it sorts itself out.

A grey blob appears on the screen, and before Dr Jordan can show Harry the shape of the baby, he realises he can see it. His baby.

“What’s that noise?” He asks, still staring at the display as the room’s filled with a weird sort of swishing sound.

“It’s a heartbeat.” Dr Jordan says. “It’s _her_ heartbeat.”

“Her heartbeat?” It’s a girl?”

Dr Jordan nods and smiles.

“I have a girl?”

She says something else, probably something important, but he’s too busy staring at the ultrasound display, at his girl. He hopes to God his mum’s paying attention.

“Harry?”

Harry blinks up at Dr Jordan. “Sorry, what?”

“I asked if you’d like any pictures.”

“I can have pictures?” Harry asks, eyes wide.

Dr Jordan smiles. “As many as you want, Harry.”

Harry looks at his mum.

“I know I’d like one, and I’m sure your sister would as well. Three, then?” His mum says, smiling kindly at Harry, curling her fingers through his hair again. “Maybe an extra, just in case.”

Harry nods, then turns back to Dr Jordan and says, “Four, please.”

While they wait for the sonograms to print, Harry wipes the gel from his belly and pulls down his t-shirt and hoodie.

Harry stares at the photos of his daughter the whole way home, like in a trance.

“Are you okay?” His mum asks, bringing Harry out of his reverie. They’re parked in the driveway, and Harry’s surprised he didn’t realise earlier.

“I’m having a girl, mum. Like, and actual girl. Jesus fucking Christ.” Harry feels somewhere between bewildered and completely amazed. “Mum, I’m having a baby.”

His mum smiles softly at him and pulls him into a one armed hug. He fits his head in her shoulder and closes his eyes, enjoying her warmth. “You’re having a baby.”

-*-*-

**Tuesday, November 2nd, 2010**

Harry’s peering into the fridge, looking for something to eat, when his mum comes into the kitchen, holding her phone, eyes wide.

“It’s your dad.” She says. “He knows.”

Harry shuts the fridge and frowns. “How does he know?”

“Gemma, apparently. He saw the sonogram she’s been keeping in her purse and when he asked if it was hers, she admitted it was yours.”

Harry takes the phone, putting it to his ear, and says, hesitantly, “Hi, dad.”

“Hello, Harry. How are you?”

“Uh, not too bad, thank you. And you?”

“Well, I’ve been better, Harry.” Harry winces and his mum gives him a sympathetic look. “When are you going to tell me?”

“Uh…”

“When are you due?”

“Mid-April.” Harry replies, scratching his chin.

“What have you gotten so far?”

“What have I… gotten?”

“Furniture, clothes. Other necessities.”

“Uh… nothing?”

There’s silence, and for a moment, a long moment, Harry thinks his dad’s going to say something scathing about his mum, like he usually does, but instead, he says, “Well, if you’d like, we can go shopping together. I haven’t seen you in a while.”

Harry stares, wide-eyed at his mum, and she mouths _what?_ “I’m, uh, not really going out. I mean, it’s a bit weird, isn’t it? Being a boy.”

“It’s not weird.” His dad says, then after a beat of silence. “But if you’d prefer, you can come stay overnight, and we can do it all online.”

Harry bites his lip and then lets it go and says, “Yeah that sounds great.”

“Alright, how about Saturday? I can come pick you up at eleven? And your mum can pick you up on Sunday, bring you home. Same time?”

“Uhm, yeah, alright. Thanks, dad.” Harry says softly, confused.

“Alright, I’ll see you on Saturday, Harry.”

“See you.” When the call ends, he turns to his mum and says, “He wants me to stay on Saturday night so we can do some internet baby shopping.”

A laugh bursts from his mum. “Really?”

“I thought he was gonna have a go at me or something, or rant about you. But he… didn’t?” Harry shakes his head and hands his mum’s phone back to her. “Can you pick me up at eleven on Sunday?”

“Sure.”

“And can you help me make a list?”

“Of course, darling.”

-*-*-

**Saturday, November 6th, 2010**

“So, I thought if you and I bought the furniture and such today, you and your mother could buy the bedding and clothes and toys, is that agreeable?” Harry’s dad asks as they sit at the kitchen bench in his London apartment, in front of his laptop.

Harry nods. It’s very agreeable. Harry had expected much, much less.

“Alright, what’s on your list?”

Harry opens the folded piece of paper up and starts to read. “Crib, cot, pram, car seat, changing table, armchair, high chair and nursery furniture.”

“What’s the difference between a crib and a cot?” His dad asks, looking genuinely perplexed.

“Mum told me, ‘cause I didn’t know either.” Harry replies, shrugging his shoulders. “Cribs are for infants, like newborns up to six months, I think? And cots are for older babies.”

His dad nods. “Alright, one of each, then.” He says, typing _cribs_ into Google.

After a good twenty minutes of looking and debating, they agree on a bedside crib, buy it, and move onto cots.

They finish in time for dinner, with almost three grand’s worth of stuff on its way to Holmes Chapel.

“What would you like for dinner?” Harry’s dad asks, shutting his laptop, smiling at Harry.

“Uh, I don’t mind.”

Harry’s stomach grumbles, and he salivates a bit at the thought.

His dad laughs and nods. “Pizza it is, then.”

-*-*-

**Sunday, November 21st, 2010**

The last thing Harry and his dad bought arrives two weeks later. It’s the armchair and footstall from Ikea, and Harry waits in the lounge room while his mum instructs the delivery men into Harry’s bedroom.

When they’re gone, he joins her in his room, staring at the boxes tucked into one corner.

“We’ll have to get Gemma around to help put it all together.” She says, reading the invoice on the cot box.

“Speaking of Gemma… she showed me this great shopping website and I may have just spent eighty pounds on baby clothes.”

His mum sighs. “Harry.” She says disapprovingly.

“It wasn’t your money, it was what I’d saved from the bakery.” He defends.

“That’s not the point, Harry.” She shakes her head. “Show me what you spent eighty pounds on, then.”

Harry leads her to his open laptop on the kitchen bench and shows her the contents of his order history.

“That one’s cute.” His mum says, pointing at a onesie with little moose on it, that says _Don’t moose with me_ on the bum.

“This one’s my favourite.” Harry points to a onesie that says _half wild; half child_.

“They’re very cute, Harry, but you’re still in trouble.” His mum says.

“Sorry? I couldn’t help myself.” He says, shrugging his shoulders.

There’s a sudden, sharp pain in his belly, just below his belly button, and he cries out.

“Harry? What’s wrong?” His mum asks, concerned. “Where’s the pain?”

He points to where the pain is. It feels like someone’s kicking him from the inside. With a start, he realises that’s exactly what it is. His daughter’s kicking. “She’s kicking me. She’s fucking _kicking_ me.”

He takes his mum’s hand and puts her palm on his belly where the baby’s kicking.

“She’s kicking.” She agrees, grinning, cold hand firm against his skin as his daughter kicks. “She’s got a strong kick, Jesus.”

“Stop hurting daddy.” He tells his belly, stern.

She doesn’t stop and Harry just sighs, shaking his head and pulls away from his mum to open up the fridge.

“Maybe food will make you happy. Daddy wants food.” He pulls out the tub of mango and peach yoghurt. He turns to his mum after getting a clean spoon from the dish rack and says, “When should we put all the furniture together?”

His mum hums. “You’re not due until April, but it won’t be fun, boxes and such taking up space in your room. It’s totally up to you.”

“It won’t feel right, without all the other things, the bedding, the clothes, the toys.” Harry shrugs and lifts a spoonful of yoghurt up to his mouth. “We can do it after Christmas.”

“Speaking of Christmas, Uncle George’s coming by, he wants to talk to you.” His mum says.

“Uncle George? Right. He’s coming to nan’s Christmas party?”

His mum nods. “Cameron’s coming as well, with his family. It’s a big joint Christmas this year.”

Harry nods his own head. “Sounds good.”

-*-*-

**Saturday, November 27th, 2010**

“I am desperately bored.” Harry whines, lying on the two-seater in the lounge room, one leg over the arm of the chair, the other over the side, toes skimming the floor.

“Well then, do something, watch television, go on the internet, read a book.” His mum calls from the kitchen.

Harry groans, low and long, throwing an arm over his eyes. “I wanna go out, do something. But then…” He sighs. “I want to go out and do some Christmas shopping.”

“Have you even got anything left to buy?” Gemma snorts from the coffee table, where she’s typing out an essay. Or at least trying to. “You buy practically everything six months in advance.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Harry whines, turning to look at his sister, pouting out his bottom lip. “It means I don’t forget anything the day before Christmas, like you do. And yes, I do still have presents to buy. Yours, in fact. Unless you don’t want it?”

Gemma rolls her eyes. “Whatever.”

“Hand me the remote, please?” Harry asks, holding his hand out, waiting for the remote. Gemma hands it to him and goes back to her laptop while Harry turns on the television. It’s on ITV, and before he can remember what time it is, what program’s on. He’s watching Liam’s band on the X-Factor stage, and he can’t make himself change the channel, eyes glued to the screen.

“Harry?” It’s like Gemma’s voice cuts through a cloud of fog in his brain, and he tears his eyes away from Liam’s face to look at Gemma. Once his brain and common sense is back, he turns off the TV and sits up, using the arm of the couch to push himself off of it, heading upstairs while Gemma calls after him.

Liam’s face is burned into the back of Harry’s eyelids, and his heart’s beating so fast, he thinks it’ll beat right out of his chest.

Liam had been wearing a leather jacket and tight, tight jeans, and he’d looked so, _so_ good. Harry’s heart _aches_ for him. He misses him so _goddamned_ much.

He doesn’t even realise he’s crying until he feels the tickle of tears rolling down his cheek, and then he’s sobbing, falling to the floor, whole body shaking. 

He feels arms around him, two pairs, and he turns to cry into someone’s shoulder. The shoulder smells like Gemma’s perfume, and he breathes her in, trying so fucking hard to calm down.

“It’s going to be okay.” His mum tells him, curling her fingers in his hair, and Harry realises, that with his mum and sister and baby girl, it might take a while, but he’s going to be okay. He’s got his girls.

-*-*-

**Saturday, December 25th, 2010**

“D’you need any help?” Harry asks the occupants of his grandparent’s kitchen, his mum, pop and aunt, climbing up onto a stool at the kitchen counter.

“Feel like cutting up carrots?” His pop asks, shaking a bag of carrots at Harry, handing it over with a chopping board and a knife.

“How do you want me to cut them?” Harry asks, taking a carrot out of the bag.

“Sticks, please.” Harry’s pop replies with a smile.

Harry starts chopping, listening to, but not joining in on his family’s conversation. Gemma appears after he’s done, swinging her arm over his shoulders. Her cheeks are pink, her eyes glassy, and she’s holding a glass of wine in the hand not curled around the curve of Harry's shoulder.

“Hello, Harry. Hello, Mini-Harry.” She says, giggling. “How’s my favourite niece?”

“Sleeping, I think.” Harry tells her, amused.

“Sleeping? What a lazy baby.” Gemma says, almost solemnly, putting her glass down on the counter to poke at Harry’s belly. “Wakey, wakey.”

“Don’t wake her!” He laughs, slapping her hand away, shaking his head. “She’ll be grumpy.”

The doorbell rings and suddenly the house is filled with near-forgotten voices. His great uncle George is a lot older than when Harry last saw him, it’s been over a decade, and he’s wearing it around the eyes, smiles lines etched deep into his skin. Harry’s cousin, Cameron, and his wife Mary follow closely behind Uncle George with their two girls.

It’s all very loud after that, greetings and hugs and cheek kisses.

George greets Harry last, pulling him into a tight hug, smiling widely. “Hello, Harry. You look wonderful.”

Harry’s cheeks go hot and he smiles shyly at George. “Thank you.”

“How’re you feeling?”

Harry shrugs. “Not too bad.”

George claps his shoulder. “That’s good. Your mum said you might have some questions, Harry. Would you like to join me for a chat before lunch starts?”

Harry looks back at his mum who smiles softly at him, talking to Cameron. He turns back to look at George. “Yeah, I’d love to.”

They walk to the atrium at the back of the house and take their seats on facing couches.

“How far along are you?” Is the first George asks, lifting the lip of his beer bottle to his lips.

“Twenty-six weeks. Six and a half months.” Harry replies, running his hand over his belly.

“You’re right in thick of it, then.” George laughs.

They’re silent for a few moments before Harry says, “How does the whole birth thing work?”

George laughs again. “I wondered if you’d ask about that. It’s pretty standard, from what I gather, relevant to female labours. It just... well, when I reached term, I started late first stage labour at home, and we didn’t have enough time to get to the hospital.” George stops, and then his cheeks go red. It’s an amusing sight. “We give birth like women do, except… well, we don’t have vaginas, so genetics finds the next best thing.”

Harry blushes as red as his uncle when he realises what he means. “Oh.”

“Yes, it sounds frightening, I know.”

“Frightening doesn’t even begin to cover it.” Harry says, feeling pale and a little clammy and nauseous at the thought. “So, it’s like female labour, it just… the baby comes out of a different hole?”

George nods. “Yes, pretty much.”

“That’s good.” Harry says, nodding. “My doctor was talking about C-sections, and after too much research I’ve learnt I don’t ever, ever want one.”

George chuckles. “No, I wouldn’t either.” He takes another swig of his beer. “What’s the gender?”

“It’s a girl.”

“Do you know what you’re gonna name her?” George asks, smiling.

Harry shrugs. “I’ve a couple names. Darcy, Luna, Rhea, Athena, Malina or Violet. I reckon I’ll decide when she’s born.”

“All the names are lovely, Harry.” Harry’s stomach grumbles and George laughs, standing up and helping Harry up. “Let’s go join them before my brother eats every, and leaves you nothing.”

Harry laughs, and follows him back through the house.

-*-*-

**Saturday, January 1st, 2011**

_i msis u_

Harry reads the text after the twelfth chime at midnight, and immediately regrets all of his life decisions. His mum’s asleep in her favourite armchair and Gemma’s in London with her boyfriend.

He knows he shouldn’t reply, he _knows_ it, but he can’t help himself.

_How drunk are you?_

_nt t all. high_

_i ms u_

Harry rubs his forehead and curls further into the couch, texting _Why are you texting me, Liam?_

_bcs i mis u. nd i wn t knw why u brk up w me_

_You’re such a lazy texter when you’re high. I don’t want to talk about it, Liam. I’m going to bed._

Harry’s phone beeps again, but he ignores it in lieu of turning the television off and waking his mum up.

She smiles blearily up at him. “Harry. Did I miss it?”

Harry nods. “Yeah, c’mon, let’s get up to bed.”

She stands and they head upstairs together, separating for their own rooms at the top of the stairs. Harry curls up in his bed and looks at his phone again.

_I love you, Harry. I won’t stop. Please, please talk to me._

Harry’s hand shakes as he turns his phone off and shoves it into the bottom drawer of his bedside table. He cups his hand around the curve of his belly and sighs.

“We’re better off, baby. And so is he.” Harry sighs again, staring up at the ceiling as his eyes adjust to the darkness. God, he hopes he’s right.

-*-*-

**Thursday, January 6th, 2011**

“How’re you feeling today, Harry?” Dr Jordan asks, pouring the ultrasound gel onto Harry’s belly. He’s starting to get used to the first shock of cold.

“Not too bad.” Harry replies, waiting for the image of his baby to appear on the ultrasound display. “How about you?”

Dr Jordan smiles at him, spreading the gel on Harry’s belly with the transducer. “I’m doing well.”

“That’s good.” Harry puts his hands under his head and watches the grey blob of baby appear on the display. “I was wondering if it would be okay if I could give birth at home, now that we know that I won’t have to have a C-section.”

Dr Jordan blinks up at Harry. “If you’d like to, of course you can.”

“Mum says I’ll need a doctor there. Will you do it?” Harry asks, smiling hopefully at the doctor.

“I’d love to, Harry.”

“I’m glad.” Harry turns back to the display. “How’s she doing?”

“Very well. She looks very, very healthy.” Dr Jordan replies, smiling at the screen.

“That’s good.” Harry says, nodding. “So, about the home birth, how does that, like, work?”

Dr Jordan laughs. “What do you mean?”

“Would I, like, do it on the bed?”

“Well, I was going to suggest a water birth.” At Harry’s confusion, Dr Jordan laughs again and says, “You give birth in a small pool, like a blow-up pool. It’s relaxing and calm, and helps alleviate the pain somewhat.”

“How do I do that?”

“Well, you can buy a birthing pool, they’re usually about forty-five pounds. If you want to rent, the medical centre has a pool you can rent for thirty pounds for a week. You can resell your birthing pool, as well.”

“Okay.” Harry nods.

“With a home birth, I can’t give you an epidural, but you can have Entonox, which is gas and air, or pethidine, which is a bit like an epidural, but a lot less intense.”

Harry nods. “Anything else I should know?”

“If there are any complications during the birth, we’ll have to take you to the hospital in Knutsford.”

“Okay.”

Dr Jordan prints out sonograms for Harry, and then hands him a paper towel to wipe off the gel. After she’s given him the sonograms, she heads over to her desk and finds a pen and piece of paper. “I’m writing down my office number, home number, mobile number and my husband’s mobile number, so you can get a hold of me no matter what.”

Harry takes the piece of paper and thanks her.

His mum’s waiting in the car in the parking lot, sandwiches from the bakery in her lap.

“Hey, how did it go?” She asks, handing him a sandwich once he’s buckled in.

“She says she’s cool with being there, and we talked about water births.” Harry replies, unwrapping his sandwich and taking a bite. It’s turkey and cranberry, Harry’s favourite. “What do you think?”

“Would you like a water birth?”

Harry shrugs. “It seems, like, less messy.”

Harry’s mum laughs, shaking her head. “Less messy, of course.”

“Shut up.” Harry defends, mouth full of sandwich.

His mum starts the car and they head back home.

-*-*-

**Saturday, February 19th, 2011**

“What are you doing?” Gemma asks, leaning against the doorway of Harry’s room.

It’s ten o’clock at night, and Harry’s folding baby clothes, putting things away, making the cot bed. When he, his mum and sister had put the furniture together that afternoon, he’d said he wouldn’t do the rest until the next day, but now, Harry just can’t help himself. “I don’t know.” He admits, shrugging his shoulders, folding a towel with tiny ducklings.

“Mum! Harry’s being weird!” Gemma calls.

Their mum appears next to Gemma, grinning when she realises what Harry’s doing. “He’s nesting.” She tells Gemma.

“I’m not a bloody bird.” Harry replies, shaking his head, frowning at the white romper in his hands. “Go away, I’m busy.” He says before he puts the romper on a hanger and tucks it into the wardrobe.

“Do you need any help?” His mum asks, stepping into the room, past Gemma.

“No, it’s okay, I know how I want it.”

She laughs. “I know you do, but you can tell me how to do it? Or I can fold for you while you put away?”

Harry looks down at the things on his bed and the boxes on his floor and bites his lip before nodding. “Yeah, alright, you can fold.”

It goes a bit quicker with him mum and sister’s help, folding clothes and putting away toys, cleaning some of his own stuff away while they’re at it.

Once everything’s away in its place and Harry’s happy with the room, he collapses on the bed with a sigh, laying back against the pillows.

“Scoot over.” Gemma says, climbing into the bed beside him, his mum on his other side.

“How’re you feeling?” His mum asks, curling her fingers in Harry’s, lifting his hand to kiss the back of it.

“Good.” Harry replies, turning to smile at her. “I like it.”

She smiles right back. “That’s good.”

He turns to Gemma, then and asks, “Are you going to be here? For her birth?”

She nods. “Course, Haz.”

He pats her hand. “Good.” He sits up. “I love you both, but I need sleep now.”

“Right, go it.” His mum laughs, ruffling his hair as she and Gemma get up off the bed.

“Goodnight!” He calls after them, climbing under the covers as his mum turns off the lights and shuts the door.

-*-*-

**Wednesday, March 23rd, 2011**

“What’s wrong?” Harry’s mum asks as Harry’s fidgeting on the sofa, grimacing at the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach.

“I’m fine.” He replies, before muttering _cut it out_ to the baby in his belly.

“You don’t look fine.”

The uncomfortable feeling subsides and he sighs in relief, sinking into the couch. “It’s gone, I’m fine.”

“What’s gone?” His mum asks, frowning, leaning forward in her seat.

“I dunno, s’just… uncomfortable.” Harry replies, shrugging his shoulders.

“Uncomfortable like?”

Harry shrugs again. “Just like a stomach cramp.”

His mum sits up a little straighter, staring at Harry like he’s a particularly hard puzzle. “Change to a different position.” She instructs.

“Why?” He says, curling up on the other side of the couch, anyway.

“Just wait. Tell me if you get another cramp.” His mum replies, getting up from her armchair. She leaves the room for the kitchen, then appears again with a glass of water. “Sips, not gulps.”

Harry snorts, and takes the glass. “You’re acting super weird today.”

“Just drink your water, brat.” His mum tells him, smiling fondly, amused.

Harry pokes his tongue out at her, taking a sip of his water.

After twenty minutes or so, the discomfort doesn’t reappear, so he turns to him mum and says, “Whatever it was, I think it’s gone.”

“They’re called Braxton Hicks, almost like practice contractions.” She tells him. “You might get a few more of them before the real contractions start.”

“So they’re like contractions? That what they feel like?”

“Braxton Hicks are a little less intense than real contractions. More uncomfortable than painful.” She replies.

“It gets worse?” Harry asks, frowning.

His mum laughs. “Yes, Harry, they get worse.”

Harry pouts, but he’s not really being serious. “I’m hungry. You want anything from the kitchen?”

His mum shakes her head, and Harry pushes himself up off the couch, heading into the kitchen.

-*-*-

**Saturday, April 16th/Sunday, April 17th, 2011**

Harry’s half asleep, one eye on old _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ reruns on the telly, when the first noticeable contraction hits him. He’d thought the earlier cramps had just been Braxton Hicks, but now he’s starting to think they weren’t.

“You alright?” Gemma asks, eyeing Harry as he winces and tenses his way through the pain.

“Yeah, fine.” He says.

“Liar.” She replies, before calling for their mum.

“Gemma, seriously.” Harry groans as their mum appears from the kitchen. The pain’s gone, and he knows it won’t be back for a while. “I’m fine, mum, seriously. I think I just had a contraction, but I’m fine, I swear.”

His mum stares at him for a long time before blinking at Gemma. “Next time he has one, time the space in between.”

“Seriously, I’m fine.” He says, rolling his eyes, reaching for his glass of orange juice on the table next to the sofa. “Leave me be for Christ's sakes.” He takes a sip of his juice.

Harry’s mum laughs. “You’re already moody.”

“I am _not_ moody.” Harry pouts, putting his glass back on the table, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Are you hungry, moody boy?”

Harry nods his head almost solemnly. “Do we have any of Wednesday’s curry left?”

“You want curry?” His mum asks, frowning, the leaves when Harry nods. “Alright. Curry it is. Anything else?”

Harry shakes his head no. “Thanks, mum.”

“You’re welcome, darling.” She replies as she heads into the kitchen.

His mum’s given him his curry and a bottle of water when he has his next contraction.

It takes six hours for the contractions to get four minutes apart at midnight, and by then, Harry’s lost his patience with everyone and everything.

“Harry, you need to relax.” His mum says as Gemma calls Dr Jordan in the kitchen.

“Relax? I’m trying to fucking relax!” Harry snaps at her, before his face falls. “I’m sorry, mum.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart, why don’t we go out front for some fresh air? Sit in your favourite chair?”

Harry nods and lets his mum lead him outside to the porch, sitting him in the old wicker armchair near the kitchen window.

Harry has another contraction while he’s sitting, and he groans and closes his eyes tightly.

“Breathe, sweetheart, breathe.” His mum says softly, stroking his hair. “You’ve got to breathe, Harry.”

Harry tries, breathes in and out, in and out, like his mum taught him, until finally, the contraction subsides.

Gemma appears from inside with a bottle of water that she hands Harry. “The doctor says she’ll be here in fifteen minutes.”

Harry takes a huge gulp of water and tries to relax into the armchair.

“You’re doing so well, darling.” His mum says softly, kissing Harry’s forehead. “Gemma, will you start setting up the pool in the lounge room?”

Gemma nods. “Yeah, alright.”

She disappears back into the house, and after only a few seconds, Harry has another contraction.

Dr Jordan pulls into the driveway and gets out of her car with a called greeting.

“Hello, Harry, how are you feeling?”

“How do you think?” He replies, frowning at her.

She laughs. “Getting close then.”

Harry nods and turns to his mum. “Help me up? It’s too cold out here.”

They get back inside, into the lounge room where Gemma’s finished setting up the birthing pool, and is feeding the hose into it.

 

“Harry, I want to check how dilated you are. It means you have to get undressed.” Dr Jordan smiles at Harry kindly as he turns beet red and nods. “Would you like your mum and sister to wait in the kitchen?”

Harry looks at his mum. “Is that okay?”

She smiles and nods. “Of course, it’s fine, sweetheart. We’ll be back when you want us to be.”

Harry get undressed for Dr Jordan when his mum and sister disappear into the kitchen, laying on the couch so she can examine him.

Harry has another contraction just as she sticks her fingers in his fucking _bum_. “Son of a bitch!”

“Sorry, Harry, I’ll be done soon.” Her fingers wiggle further inside him, and with her gloves on, it feels fucking weird. Her whole hand fits in after a moment, and Harry swears again. “You’re close, Harry. I can feel her head and your cervix is soft.”

“My goddamned what?” Harry cries. “No, actually, I don’t want to know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

Dr Jordan laughs and pulls her fingers from Harry, tugging off the glove and turning it inside out, putting it on the coffee table. “You’re about eight centimetres dilated, Harry, maybe a little more.” Harry nods. “I’m going to see about getting that pool filled. Why don’t you put some briefs on and take a little walk around the room?”

Next time Dr Jordan checks his dilation twenty minutes later, he’s in the pool, leaning over the edge on his knees, muttering expletives into Gemma’s should as she fits her fingers in him.

“Ten centimetres, Harry, are you ready?”

“What?” Harry cries. “No! I’m not fucking ready! She can stay in there until she’s eighteen!” Near-constant contractions wrack his body. “Next time I see that stupid motherfucker, I’m gonna rip his balls off and feed them to him!”

“Who?” Harry’s mum asks.

“Who the goddamned fuck do you think?” Harry snaps at her, before his eyes go soft as he looks at her. “Sorry.”

Gemma laughs so hard both she and Harry shake with it. “Do you want some more ice, little brother?”

“No more ice, sorry, Harry. It’s time to push.” Dr Jordan says before Harry can say yes.

“No, it is not!” 

“It is, Harry, c’mon.”

Harry sobs into Gemma’s shoulder. “How do I push? How do I do it?”

“Go with the contractions, Harry, bear down with them, your body will figure out the rest.

Harry feels his mum’s hand curl in his, and he squeezes it, whimpering, as he starts pushing.

He doesn’t know how long he pushes for, five minutes or five hours, all he knows is that it feels like he’s shitting out a fucking watermelon.

“She’s crowning!” He hears from Dr Jordan. “Keep pushing, Harry! She’s almost here.”

“You’re doing so well, sweetheart.” His mum says softly, pushing his sweaty fringe back from his forehead.

“I can’t, mum! I can’t do it anymore!”

“C’mon, Harry, you’re so close.” Gemma says.

“You’re doing so well, Harry, keep pushing.” His mum says after, Gemma.

“I can’t anymore, I’m too tired.” Harry cries into Gemma’s shoulder.

Gemma takes Harry’s face in her hands and pulls his head up so they’re facing each other. “You bloody well _will_ push, Harry Styles, or I’ll yank that fucking kid out myself!” There’s a fierceness in her eyes that makes Harry think she might not be kidding.

His eyes go wide and he pushes again, as hard as he can, for as long as he can, and suddenly, the pressure in his abdomen is gone, and a few moments later, crying is filling the room.

“Anne, love, hand me the towel.”

“Where is she?” Harry asks, turning to look at Dr Jordan. She’s holding a crying mass covered in a towel in her hands, using the material to wipe at his daughter before handing her to him.

Her skin’s practically grey, and she’s bloody as **fuck** , but she’s so goddamned amazing, Harry can’t even believe she’s real. She’s got dark hair matted to her head, and when she opens her eyes, they’re amber, with a ring of dark chocolate brown.

Like Liam’s.

“She’s so cute and gross at the same time.” Gemma coos, amused as she and his mum lean in to look at his baby.

Harry doesn’t say anything, he can’t make his mouth move. He’s speechless.

Something slips out of Harry, but he ignores it in favour of watching Dr Jordan put a clamp on the umbilical cord, near his baby’s belly, and cut it.

“Whatever that is, it’s really gross.” He hears Gemma say. Both Dr Jordan and his mum laugh.

“It’s afterbirth, sweetheart. Go make a bottle, exactly like the tin’s instructions say. Then put it in the heater. It’s all on the kitchen bench.” Harry’s mum tells his sister, amusement dancing in her eyes. Gemma disappears to do what she’s been asked.

“Have you decided on a name, Harry?” Dr Jordan asks, softly, using the corner of the towel to wipe more blood from his baby’s face.

Harry looks at her for a little longer before blinking up at his mum and Dr Jordan. “Uhm… yeah. Rhea Luna.”

“The mother of gods and the moon.” Dr Jordan says softly. “It’s beautiful, Harry. I have to cheek Rhea out before you feed her, okay?”

Harry nods and lets Dr Jordan take Rhea, smiling, exhausted, at his mum.

“You did so well, baby. So, so well.” She replies, running her fingers through his sweaty curls. “So, so well. She’s so beautiful, Harry.”

“She looks like a ghost.” He jokes softly, eyelids drooping sleepily. “Cam you pass me the towel and my clean pants?”

Harry wipes himself dry with shaking hands, and his mum helps him into clean briefs and joggers, just as Dr Jordan reappears with Rhea and Gemma with the bottle, both of which he’s given.

“Hey, Rhea, hey. I’m your daddy.” Harry tells his daughter, voice soft as he sits carefully on the sofa, putting the teat of the bottle to Rhea’s mouth. He sighs in relief when, after a while, she finally takes it in. “There you go, that’s it. God, I love you so much.”


	3. Part Three

**Friday, June 10th, 2011**

Harry’s not sure what time it is, sometime after midnight and before sunrise, when the sky’s still dark and the stars are still out. He’s half asleep, sitting in the armchair on the porch, rugged up with Rhea wrapped in a thick blanket, asleep in his arms against his chest. She’d woken him up, hungry, no more than half an hour before, and once she’d fallen back asleep in his arms, he’d taken her outside.

“I met your daddy on this day one year ago,” Harry tells his daughter, as the sky starts to lighten, turning a weak grey. “His name’s Liam. He’s seventeen years old, and he was on the telly and in a band. He might still be in the band, I don’t know.” He sighs and lifts the blanket further around his shoulders, around his daughter. “I told you this, while you were still in my belly, but I need you to know that you and me, we’re going to be okay because I’m going to be here for you, I’m always going to love you. Always.”

Rhea snuffles in her sleep and Harry lifts his head to watch the sun rise over the tops of the houses across the road.

Once the sky’s blue and the sun’s high, he takes Rhea back inside and sets her in her crib, and taking her baby monitor into the kitchen. He’s exhausted, but he’s at the point where his exhaustion is preventing him from sleeping.

He takes the eggs and bacon from the fridge and sets about making egg and bacon butties.

His mum appears after a while, rubbing at her eyes, ruffling her hair as she yawns. “When did you wake up?”

“Not sure. A while ago. Haven’t been able to go back to sleep.” Harry replies, shrugging his shoulders. “Hungry.”

His mum presses a kiss to his cheek. “Starved. Want to do something today? It’s been a while since you went out.”

Harry looks back at her after he’s flipped the bacon and his mum’s egg. He prefers his sunny side up. “Uhm, I guess.”

“They will find out eventually, Harry, it’s a small town. Maybe while we’re out you can see about getting your job at the bakery back, even if it’s just a few hours a week.”

Harry raises an eyebrow at his mum, amused. “You trying to get rid of me?”

His mum rolls her eyes. “I’m trying to stop you from going mental like you did when you were pregnant.”

“I’ll ask.” He replies, nodding his head. “How do I explain my absence? And Rhea? How would I explain Rhea?”

“You could always tell the truth?” Harry gives her a pointed look and she laughs. “Okay, okay. Just say you stayed with Rhea’s mother until she gave birth and gave you full custody. Or simply say that you have Rhea full time and leave it at that, don’t elaborate.”

Harry nods and turns the hob off, divvying up the bacon and eggs on bread his mum’s just buttered, drowning his own in whole egg mayonnaise.

“Where do you want to go today?”

“Don’t care, just want beef.” He replies with a shrug. “A burger or something. Steak.”

“How was your iron, last time Xiomara checked?” Harry’s mum asks, taking a bite of her bacon buttie.

“Still low.”

“Maybe we should get you some supplements.”

Harry shrugs, taking a bite out of the corner of his buttie. The baby monitor crackles with Rhea’s cries, and Harry puts his sandwich on the chopping board, ready to head her when his mum stops him with a soft smile.

“I got this. Eat your breakfast.” She tells Harry, disappearing from the room.

Harry opens his buttie and pulls out a piece of bacon, taking a bite and listening to his mum coo at Rhea through the baby monitor.

“You’ve got a smelly bum, miss Rhea Luna. Absolutely atrocious.” His mum laughs through the monitor. “Let’s get you a nappy change before you start stinking up the place.”

Harry snorts and takes the other piece of bacon from the open buttie.

“There we go, miss.” He hears his mum say after a while, voice soft. “Not tired?” Hungry.” She pauses and then hums. “No, just wide awake, c’mon, let’s go see daddy.”

His mum appears with Rhea and he smiles and takes her after wiping his hands on a tea towel. “Let’s go have some tummy time, baby. Maybe there’s something good on television.”

He takes her into the lounge room and moves her play mat between the couch and the TV so he can sit next to her and watch her and the telly at the same time.

He puts her on her belly on the play mat, face turned towards Harry so she can see him, reaching for the remote and turning the telly on low.

-*-*-

**Sunday, December 25th, 2011**

“I’m so full, I think I’m going to explode.” Harry groans, laying on his back on the living room floor, Rhea on her own back next to him, pale green silicone teething ring in her mouth. His mum, sister and grandparents are spread out on the couch and armchairs watching _Love Actually_.

Gemma shoves her foot in Harry’s face and says, “You’re full because you ate three platefuls.”

“One and a half.” Harry defends, hitting Gemma’s foot away. “Don’t out your foot in my face. Anyone want a cuppa?” He sits up and pushes himself up from the floor.

His mum, sister and grandmother all concur, and his grandfather asks for another whisky.

Harry turns the kettle on in the kitchen and pulls out tea cups from the cupboard. He pours another whisky for his grandfather, takes it to him and checks on Rhea before going back to the boiling kettle.

He makes the teas and takes two in each hand into the lounge room and sets them on the coffee table. Rhea’s rolled onto her stomach and he sits next to her.

She wiggles a bit like a worm and a laugh bursts out of Harry. “What are you doing, silly girl?”

She pushes up onto her hands and knees, giggling as she wiggles, crawling towards Harry’s mum until she stops and falls onto her bum, holding her hands up to Harry’s mum.

For a second, they’re all quiet, all a little shocked, and then Harry says, “Did… did that just happens.”

Harry’s mum leans down. “Hey, Rhea, go to daddy, go to daddy.”

He plays along, clapping to catch her attention, holding his arms open and calling Rhea’s name until she crawls back towards Harry and climbs into his lap, giggling and clapping when she finally gets up.

“Who’s my smart girl?” Harry says, pulling Rhea into a cuddle, pressing kisses all over her face until she giggles again, smacking her lips like she’s trying to kiss him back. “Do you want to do it again, baby girl? Go to nana?”

She goes like she understands what Harry’s just said, and maybe she does, crawling back over to Harry’s mum and sitting with her arms raised until she’s picked up.

“You’re a clever girl, aren’t you?”

Rhea claps again, giggling, and then pats Harry’s mum’s cheeks, smacking her lips together again in an imitation of a kiss.

“Alright, silly girl. It’s time for bed.” He says, pushing himself up from the floor and taking Rhea from his mum’s lap.

She tugs at his hair as he takes her into the kitchen to make her a bottle.

He sits in the armchair in his bedroom with her in his lap and gives her the bottle. She’s still hyper, and when she takes it and sucks the teat into her mouth, she dances in Harry’s lap to a tune he can’t hear.

He takes her hairbrush from the drawer next to him and brushes her curls and sings to her while she drinks.

She calms down after a while, after her hair’s brushed and most of her milk’s gone, curling into him, eyes drooping.

He doesn’t know what he’s singing, jumbles of songs strewn together like multi-coloured Christmas lights.

But one of them, one of those songs, he’s been hearing a lot on the radio, _Gotta Be You_ by One Direction.

He can’t believe he’s as fucked up and masochistic as he actually is.

Once Rhea’s asleep in her bedside crib instead of her cot, he climbs into his own bed and reaches into his bottom bedside drawer for his phone. He stares at it for a long time in his hand before turning it on.

It’s low on battery, but it does turn on, and he’s assaulted with a year’s worth of texts and calls. He ignores most of it for a year’s worth of texts from Liam.

Liam sent a text every day between New Year’s and August eleventh, but after that, the texts became fewer and fewer until November eighteenth, the last text, _our album was released today_.

He turns his phone off again and puts it back into his drawer, turning to stare at Rhea as she sleeps.

-*-*-

**Wednesday, February 1st, 2012**

“I don’t feel eighteen,” Harry tells his mum, sitting at the counter at nine in the morning as she makes him pancakes and bacon. “It doesn’t feel like my birthday.”

His mum nods, flipping the bacon in one pan, the pancakes in the other. “It’s your eighteenth birthday.” She assures him.

“Ha, ha, very funny.” Harry snorts.

“We can cancel dinner if you don’t want to do it anymore.” She says, eyes turning soft.

“No, no, I want to do this. “Harry replies, shaking his head.

“Okay, sweetheart. If you change your mind, let me know.”

Harry nods. “I’m going to see if Rhea’s awake.”

While he’s pulling Rhea out of her cot, the doorbell rings, and he gets back to the kitchen, his mum’s holding a silver present box with a gold bow.

“Messenger came all the way from London.” She says, eyes a little wide.

Harry takes the box and puts it on the counter in front of him, Rhea held tightly on his hip as he pulls the bow off one-handed.

Inside is a set of key – a house key, a garage door clicker and a car key – sitting on top of an envelope with his name on it in familiar scrawl.

“It’s from dad,” Harry tells his mum who sighs and nods. “Take Rhea?”

His mum takes Rhea, and he pulls the keys and envelope from the box.

“Keys?” His mum asks, taking the keys from him, studying them while Harry pulls the letter from inside the envelope.

As he reads, and he begins to understand, he fills in his mum. “He’s giving me a flat, with a year’s rent paid in advance, and a car.”

“A flat and a car? Where?”

“London. Camden Town.”

“He’s giving you a flat and a car.” His mum repeats, shaking her head.

“He says the house is furnished and the car’s in the garage,” Harry says, finishing the last of the letter. “The flat’s for my birthday and the car’s so I can visit you whenever I’d like.” He puts the letter back in the box, taking Rhea from his mum. “He also says his assistant has a list of possible jobs, a couple bakeries, a florist, a secretary position, some other places he didn’t name.”

“He’s given you a flat, car and a job?” She says, astounded. “Makes my present look rather mediocre in comparison.” And she looks rather upset.

Harry pulls her into a hug, careful of Rhea between them. “He can’t make up for years of neglect by giving me a house and a car.”

“Even if the car’s a Range Rover?”

“What?” He looks up at the keys in his mum’s hand, and she’s right, they are Rover keys. “It doesn’t matter.”

“You’re taking them, though, aren’t you?”

“I dunno.”

“If he wants to give you a flat and a car then let him, he owes you that much.”

“What about Gemma?” Harry replies, pulling away from his mum. “He’s given me something, but not Gemma. It’s not fair on her.”

“Then tell him so.”

Harry nods. “I will.”

“So, are you going to take them?”

Harry looks at the keys in his mum’s hand. “Yeah,” he says, taking the keys. “I’m going to take them.”

-*-*-

**Saturday, February 4th, 2012**

“Wow.”

“Agreed.”

The flat’s a three bedroom, two story terraced house with a new kitchen, hardwood floors and muted yellow walls. There’s a backyard, small, but almost completely covered, trees and bushes against the fence towering over it all, leaving it shadowed and private. The front is like almost every other on the street, with a small square of grass with roses planted along the fence and a semi-detached garage, where Harry’s new car sits.

“Did he say how much the rent was?” Harry’s mum asks as they stand in the kitchen, Rhea in her carrier on the counter top. She’s getting almost too big for it now, just a few months left in it, he reckons.

Harry shakes his head. “But he wouldn’t have given it to me if he didn’t think I could afford it.”

His mum nods, looking around.

The house is furnished, like his dad had said, but only minimally, and Harry suspects it’s all left over from the last tenants. There’s an L-shaped chocolate coloured suede couch in the lounge room, and round four seater table the same colour in the kitchen, a queen bed and a dresser upstairs in the biggest room and a double bed and a desk in the smallest.

“What do you think, Rhea?” Harry asks his daughter, tickling her belly until she giggles. “Do you like it? It’s our new house.”

Rhea looks around, like she understands what he’s saying, then back at Harry and giggles again. Harry takes that as a yes.

“Alright, cheeky,” Harry says, pressing kisses to her face. “What now?” He asks his mum.

“Celebratory lunch?” She suggests, smiling. “Wanna drive your new car?”

Harry grins. “More than anything.”

They transfer the car seat base from his mum’s car into the Rover, which still has that new car smell, along with the stroller frame, his mum’s bag and Rhea’s nappy bag.

They find a Greek restaurant called Konaki in Bloomsbury, about twenty minutes from Harry’s flat. They sit out in the courtyard, under the heater and order more than they can realistically eat.

Rhea sleeps through most of lunch, though she wakes just long enough for a bottle and some halloumi.

They’re sharing a plate of baklava when a familiar face catches his eyes from across the courtyard.

“Mum! Do you know who that is?” Harry stage-whispers, eyes a little wide as he jerks his head back to look at his mum.

“No, who is it?”

“Nick Grimshaw. He does the late night on BBC Radio One. He’s like my ultimate celebrity crush.” Harry replies, blinking back over at the radio DJ and his company. He thinks it might be Peaches Geldof, but he’s not sure.

“Go ask him for a photo of something, then.” His mum replies, shrugging her shoulders, nicking the last piece of baklava, pushing her phone across the table to Harry.

“Could I? I mean, he’s having lunch, though, s’not very fair, is it?”

“Well, then don’t go over there.”

“But I really want to.” Harry feels conflicted, but he takes the phone, and before he can change his mind, he stands and wearily wanders over to Nick Grimshaw’s table.

Closer, Nick’s company, who’s definitely Peaches Geldof, looks up at Harry cautiously. Nick looks at him next.

“I’m, uh, really sorry, to interrupt your lunch, but I was wondering if I could get a photo with you?” Harry asks, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Nick’s silent for a moment, blinking back to Peaches, before he nods and stands, smiling at Harry. “What’s your name, pet?”

“Harry.” He tells Nick, cheeks pinking.

“It’s nice to meet you, Harry. How old are you?”

“Eighteen.”

“Eighteen? Well, where’s your phone, young Harold?”

Harry fumbles for his mum’s phone and opens the camera app while Nick pulls him in closer and they poses.

Once Harry’s taken a few pictures, he thanks Nick, and scampers back to his mum and daughter, cheeks pink and heart pounding.

“You’re blushing.” His mum tells him with a grin.

“Shut up.” He mutters, poking his tongue out at her.

“You’re so cute, look at you.”

Harry groans. “Leave me alone.”

“C’mon, lover boy, let’s stop by Ikea before we head home.”

-*-*-

**Sunday, February 12th, 2012**

Harry moves into his new flat on a Sunday, with the help of his mum, sister and grandparents. They help him put disassembled furniture together and eat lunch with him, pizza from a place down the road, before they head back up to Cheshire, Manchester and Liverpool respectively.

After that, his dad drops by and helps him build the last of the furniture and put away kitchenware, Harry’s vinyls, DVDs, CDs and books, and everything in Rhea’s room. They eat Thai for dinner, and then he’s gone, too, leaving Rhea and Harry alone for the first time.

After Rhea’s asleep, Harry sets about unpacking the last of the boxes around the room, too buzzed to sleep.

He listens to Nick Grimshaw’s show while he works in his bedroom, putting clothes away and making up his bed, perking up when he hears his name after Ed Sheeran’s Lego House.

“I was telling Daisy on Wednesday about this fan I met last week, when I was having lunch with Peaches. Harry.” Nick pauses. “It’s still weird for me, fans coming up to me in the street, and this poor kid look like he thought I was gonna eat him alive or summat, maybe yell at him.” There’s another pause. “He asked me for a photo, and I was surprised when it didn’t appear on like, Facebook or summat, on Twitter. Kinda wanted to scope him out.” Nick laughs. “Anyone, this one’s for you, young Harold; this is Troublemaker by Taio Cruz.”

A laugh bursts out of Harry’s mouth and he covers it with his hand.

He plugs the WiFi modem into his laptop and turns the internet on, logging into Twitter. He hasn’t used it for almost a year now, and there are DMs and notifications from friends he hasn’t talked to in months, all of which he ignores in order to compose a new tweet.

_@Harry_Styles: Appreciate the shoutout, @grimmers what made you think I was a trouble maker?_

When Nick doesn’t reply after twenty minutes, Harry turns off his laptop and turns the radio off to go to bed.

-*-*-

**Thursday, February 29th, 2012**

Harry sees Nick again on Harry’s first day at the florist, on leap day, and it feels rather like fate.

“Hi.”

“Young Harold,” Nick says, smiling. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“You remember my name?” Harry asks, surprised, cheeks pinking. Nick’d talked about Harry on the radio, but he’d never replied to Harry’s tweet, so Harry thought he’d been forgotten.

“I never forget a pretty face,” Nick says, before turning his attention to Rhea, asleep in her carrier behind Harry. “Is she yours?”

Harry’d interviewed at all seven jobs on the list his dad’s assistant had made, and out of the two he’d been accepted for, only the florist had agreed to let him bring his daughter to work. The owner, Marcie, had two of her own, Isobel and Madeline, and they were there so often Marcie didn’t see the problem with adding another child to the mix.

“Yeah.” Harry replies, nodding his head, looking back at Rhea with a soft smile.

“What’s her name?”

“Rhea.”

“Rhea. Like the Titan goddess?”

Harry grins and nods. “Yeah. Her middle name’s Luna, like-”

“The Roman goddess of the moon. The mother of moons. I like that, sounds like something from Game of Thrones.”

“Game of Thrones?” Harry asks, frowning.

Nick grins. “It’s this American show set in, like, a medieval fantasy world. It’s only got one season, but it’s kinda fantastic. My mate, she calls it Lord of the Rings with boobs.”

Harry smiles. “It sounds cool.”

Nick nods, and then he says. “Hey, do you guys do customs?”

“I, uh… don’t actually know? This is actually my first day, so I’ll go ask the boss lady.” Harry peaks through the door behind him, into the back room where Marcie is, cutting the thorns off roses. “Hey, Marcie, do we do customs?”

Marcie looks up at him through her fringe, smiling, and says, “Yeah, send them in.”

Harry turns back to Nick and says, “Head on in.”

“Thanks, pet.” Nick replies before sliding past Harry into the back room.

Nick’s in the back room with Marcie for fifteen minutes, and when they reappear, Harry’s pouring juice into a sippy cup for Rhea, who’s awake and sitting on the counter, pressing her face into her soft sheep toy Harry’s named Moon.

“I’ll show you how to ring up customs, Harry.” Marcie says as Harry’s screwing the lid onto the sippy cup and handing it to Rhea, then turns to Marcie to watch her and the computer. “Okay, so customs are fifty, and the cymbidium orchids are another ten per dozen.” Harry watches her type it all into the computer.

While Marcie’s helping Harry ring Nick’s order up, Harry keeps a half an eye on Rhea, who seems completely taken with Nick, drinking her juice and holding her sheep, staring at him. When he starts making funny faces at Rhea, she giggles and tries her best to make funny faces right back at him.

Harry smiles at them and turns back to Marcie just as she’s pressing enter and the cash drawer’s flying open.

“That’ll be fifty-five.” She tells Nick.

He hands over the money and once he’s got his change, he turns to Harry with a soft smile and says, “See you around, pet.”

Harry’s cheeks pink, and he watches Nick go.

“You like him.” Marcie says once Nick’s out the door, grinning at Harry as he blushes.

“Why does everyone say that?” Harry replies, shaking his head. “I do not.”

“You do so.”

Harry huffs.

-*-*-

**Wednesday, March 28th, 2012**

“Six visits in five weeks.” Harry says, grinning at Nick. “Your girlfriend must love you.”

Nick laughs. “No girlfriend.”

“Well, who on earth is getting all these flowers?” Harry asks, chuckling.

Nick shrugs. “The first bouquet was for my mum. The others were excuses.”

“Excuses?”

“To see you.”

Harry turns red. “To see me?”

Nick nods. “To see you.” He rubs the back of his neck, suddenly nervous, and Harry feels rather fond. “Do you have plans on Friday?”

“Plans?”

“Have you ever had gumbo before?” Nick asks.

Harry frowns, shakes his head and asks, “No, what’s gumbo?”

“It’s a Cajun stew.” Nick replies. “Cajun like Louisiana, in the US. It’s got, like, sausage, chicken, peppers, onion and celery.” He grins at Harry. “There’s a Cajun restaurant in Camden, The Blues Kitchen. There’s more on the menu; burgers and fried chicken, buffalo wings, ribs, milkshakes, and the most amazing mac and cheese you will ever taste.” Nick’s silent for a moment, before he says, “Would you join me there for dinner?”

Harry’s so close to saying yes (mostly because the food sounds amazing), but then he looks down at Rhea, who’s taking her afternoon nap in her pram, mostly-empty bottle of milk in her lax hands.

Before Harry can say anything, Nick says, “They’ve got live blues and jazz Miss Sweetface would love.”

Harry blinks down at Rhea again. “I haven’t really, like, date since two-thousand-ten, since before Rhea was born.”

Nick gives Harry a soft look. “It doesn’t have to be a date. It can just be a dinner between friends.”

Harry flicks his fringe out of his eyes and says, “Okay, yeah, dinner on Friday. What time?”

“What’s Rhea’s bedtime?”

“Seven.” Harry replies.

Nick nods. “How about I pick you up at half five? That way you can get Rhea back in time.” Nick suggests, smiling softly.

“Yeah, perfect.” Harry replies, smiling back, before finding a scrap of paper to write his address on.

He hands the paper to Nick, who take it and says, “I’ll see you at five thirty, pet.”

“See you, then, Nick.”

-*-*-

**Friday, March 30th, 2012**

Harry’s sweating nervously, running his clammy hands down his jean-clad thighs as he waits for five thirty to roll around.

Rhea’s singing to herself, rather loudly, when Nick finally arrives, ringing the doorbell at half five on the dot.

“C’mon in, the concert’s already begun.” Harry jokes as Rhea begins a song that sounds more like a group of sounds jumbled together in no discernible tune. 

Nick laughs, and follows Harry to the lounge room, kneeling down on Rhea’s play mat. “You sound absolutely wonderful, Miss Sweetface.”

Rhea giggles and climbs into Nick’s lap for a cuddle.

“Can you watch her for a second? I’ve just gotta make sure I’ve got everything.”

Nick nods, and Harry squeezes his shoulder before heading upstairs for Rhea’s nappy bag and her Winnie the Pooh blanket. He takes them back downstairs and finds his wallet and keys, shoving them in the nappy bag.

Nick’s tickling Rhea, laughing as she giggles, cheeks pink and eyes bright, until Rhea tries to tickle him back, wiggling her fingers on his shoulders, when Harry finally returns to the lounge room.

Harry smiles softly and puts the nappy bag on the couch before picking up Rhea’s carrier and placing it on the floor near Nick and Rhea, sitting in front of it and holding his arms out for Rhea. She goes into it easily, and once she’s strapped in, with Moon and her blanket, shaking her pink sheep dummy in front of her to take if she wished. She takes it and shoves it in her mouth.

Nick stands and helps Harry up before saying, “Could you grab that frame over there? And that plastic base next to it?”

Nick takes them, and then they head out to his cobalt Kia Cerato, sitting on the street. When Harry’s strapped Rhea’s car seat into the backseat, Nick opens the passenger door and Harry slides into the seat.

Nick gets into the driver’s seat and turns to smile at Harry. “Ready to go?”

Harry nods, smiling. “Yeah, ready.”

The Blues Kitchen is on the corner of Camden High Street and Delany, in an old building made of red brick and old wood fixtures. They sit at the second table against the wall from the stage, where a girl no older than Harry’s crooning an Etta James song Harry can’t remember the name of.

It’s quiet, the place nearly empty, and Harry kind of fucking loves it.

“How did you find this place?” Harry asks, pulling Rhea from her pram and into his lap.

“I can’t even remember. I think my friends and I were really drunk and we stumbled upon this place. Then suddenly we were coming here almost every month.” Nick replies with a shrug.

Harry looks up as a waitress appears next to the table with menus.

“Can I get you two anything to drink?” She asks, handing over the menus, waving at Rhea when she blinks up at her.

Nick looks over at Harry, like he’s nonverbally asking him to order first. “Is it possible to get some orange juice? Do you sell it by itself or is it only a mixer?”

The waitress smiles. “I’m sure I could work that.”

“Thanks.” Harry replies, returning with a smile, before turning back to Nick. “And you promised me a milkshake.”

Nick grins.” Can we get a Banana Foster and a Caramel Captain, please?” He asks the waitress. 

She pauses and looks at Harry. “Could I check your ID, love?”

Harry nods, turning to the pram, reaching down into Rhea’s nappy bag for his wallet. One handed, he opens it and pulls out his ID, handing it over to the waitress.

She nods after a moment and hands it back, leaving the table to get their drinks.

“Banana Foster and Caramel Captain.” Harry asks with a chuckle.

“The Banana Foster is a banana shake with toffee, cream, pecans, cinnamon and bourbon. The Caramel Captain is a salted caramel milkshake with whipped cream, fudge and Captain Morgan. They’re both fucking fantastic.” Nick replies with a grin. “You can have whichever one you’d like.”

“The banana one sounds good.” Harry replies with a soft smile. “Thanks.”

“All good, pet.”

“So what’s good? Besides the gumbo thing you were talking about.” Harry says, moving Rhea back into her pram, brushing her curls from her eyes.

“There’s this platter, with wings, ribs, brisket, sweet potato fries and tortilla chips. The amazing mac and cheese and the onion rings. If we get that and the gumbo, you can try everything.” Nick suggest, smiling cheekily.

“Could we eat all that?” Harry asks with a chuckle.

“We can bloody well try.” Nick says, a determined and amused look on his face.

The waitress returns with their drinks and to take their orders, and Harry pours the orange juice into Rhea’s sippy cup, handing it to her when he’s sure the lid’s screwed on tight.

“So,” Nick begins, grinning. “If we’re going to be best friends, you have to tell me everything.” He puts on a very American accent, and it makes Harry laugh.

“You sound like a thirteen-year-old.” Harry laughs, taking a sip of his milkshake, which is just as fantastic as Nick had said.

“Inside, I’m a thirteen-year-old girl.” Nick says, deadpan.

They both stare at each other for a few moments, before Harry snorts, starts to giggle behind his hands before Nick joins him, chuckling loudly. Rhea joins the laughing, just to feel included, and a few people give them strange looks, but Harry can’t find it in himself to care.

“You’re so weird.” He tells Nick once they’ve calmed down. “What do you want to know?”

“Where are you from?” Nick asks, shrugging. “When did you move? Why? When’s your birthday? When’s Rhea’s?”

Harry laughs again. “I’m from Cheshire. I moved on the twelfth. My dad gave me the flat for my eighteenth which was on the first of last month. Rhea turns one in eighteen days.” He explains. “Same questions.”

Nick nods. “Oldham, 2005, to work on the radio, 14th of August.” Then he laughs. “And I don’t have a Rhea.”

Harry laughs again. “So, you always wanted to work on the radio.”

“Pretty much, ever since I was a kid. Loud mouth, big opinions. It was either radio or politics. And politics drives me utterly mental.” Nick chuckles and shrugs his shoulders. “What about you, did you always want to be a florist.”

Harry feels his smile fall, and he shrugs his shoulders. “Things didn’t work out the way I wanted them to.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.” Nick says, voice soft.

Harry shakes his head. “You didn’t upset me.” He sighs and shrugs his shoulders. “I was sixteen, when I was – when I found out Rhea was on the way. She became more important than anything I wanted.”

Nick nods. “What did you want?”

Harry bursts out into humourless laughter. “I wanted to be a rock star.”

Nick smiles softly, and he’s about to say something when the waitress reappears with the ribs, sweet potato fries, mac and cheese and the wings. “I reckon you’d make a good rock star.” Nick says when she’s gone.

Harry feels like he’s just been punched in the gut, flung back two years prior into Torquay. “I need some air. Can you… could you just give me a second?”

“Harry–” Nick begins as Harry stands.

“Please, Nick, I swear I’ll be right back.”

Nick nods, after a moment's pause, and Harry thanks him and pulls Rhea from her pram before heading outside. Outside, he leans against the wall, Rhea on his hip, head tucked into his shoulder, and sighs, rubbing her back.

_”I reckon you’d be a good rock star. Grow your hair out a bit, look just like Jagger.”_

Harry closes his eyes.

Once he’s calmer, and he doesn’t feel like he’s going to breakdown, he goes back inside. Nick’s face is pinched and his body’s tense, but when he sees Harry he smiles, softly. “Are you okay?”

Harry blinks slowly and nods, putting Rhea back in her pram and sitting in his seat across from Nick. “Yeah, I’m okay. Sorry.”

“No need to apologise, Harry. Do you want to take you home?” Nick replies, voice soft.

Harry shakes his head and smiles softly. “I desperately want to eat all this unhealthy food.”

Nick laughs. “Okay.”

For a long time, while they eat, it’s quiet and tense, before Harry says, “If I couldn’t be a rock star, I wanted to be a lawyer. Prosecution.”

Nick smiles. “I can see that, defending the defenceless.”

Harry smiles right back and shrugs. “Maybe when Rhea’s older I’ll go get my degree. But for now, I’m happy around flowers.”

“Which is your favourite? Flower?” Nick asks.

“Sunflowers.” Harry replies softly. “I like sunflowers. When I was younger, I wanted to live on a farm with fields and fields of sunflowers and lavender and orchards, as far as the eye can see.”

Nick smiles softly. “That sounds nice.”

“It’s cliché.” Harry snorts. And then he shrugs. “But I like the idea, nonetheless.”

The conversation’s easier after that, and Harry relaxes.

“Nick’s funny, and he’s smart, and he’s so, so good looking, and for a while, Harry forgets the last two years and just lives in the moment. This moment, sitting across the table from a ridiculously attractive guy who actually _likes_ Harry.

Harry hasn’t been this happy in too long.

-*-*-

**Thursday, April 5th, 2012**

“You’re boyfriend’s here.” Marcie grins, peaking her head into the back room, where Harry’s making a bouquet for a customer, made with blue hydrangeas, cream roses, white gemini, alstroemeria and forget me not.

“He’s not my boyfriend.” Harry says, pouting, making a space in the bouquet for another rose.

“He is so your boyfriend.” Marcie says, while the customer, a middle-aged woman, with greying blonde hair, looks on in amusement.

“How’s this?” Harry asks the customer.

The woman smiles. “Perfect. Absolutely wonderful. You have a good eye for colour, young man.”

Harry grins. “Thank you.”

“I’ll finish this.” Marcie says with a soft smile, jerking her head towards the door.

Harry pulls off his gloves, setting them on the work bench and sliding into the main shop.

Nick’s behind the counter with Rhea, talking to her and waving Moon in front of her.

“Hey.”

Nick blinks up and smiles softly At Harry. “Hey, pet.”

“What are you doing here?” Harry asks, accepting the hug and kiss on the cheek Nick gives him once he’s standing.

Nick turns to the counter and picks up a rectangle box, long and wide, and hands it to Harry.

Harry pulls the lid from the box, and inside are a bouquet of white roses, white hydrangeas, daisies, yarrows, and –

“Sunflowers?” Harry says, softly, looking up at Nick. “How’d you get sunflowers before summer?”

“They’re from Spain.” Nick replies. “Do you like them?”

Harry leans up to kiss Nick’s cheek, free arm around his shoulders for a hug. “Very much, thank you, Nick.”

“You’re very welcome, pet.” Nick replies. “Are you free tomorrow night for dinner?”

Harry smiles and nods. “Where?”

“Bar Gansa, it’s a Spanish restaurant. Makes the best paella I’ve ever had.” Nick says. “Have you ever had paella before?”

“Once or twice.” Harry says with a nod.

“I’ll pick you up at half five tomorrow night?”

Harry leans up and presses another kiss to Nick’s cheek. “I’ll be waiting. One more thing?”

“Yeah, pet?” Nick asks.

“Rhea’s birthday’s on the seventeenth, and I was wondering if you’d like to come with me to a tattoo parlour to get her name tattooed? And then on the twentieth, she’ll have a party? Small, just my mum and sister around lunch and my dad around dinner.”

Nick smiles softly and nods. “I’d love to. For now, I have to run, alright, pet? But I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

“Okay.” Harry hugs Nick. “Thank you, again, for the flowers.”

“You’re welcome, pet.”

When Harry gets home that night, he finds a vase and puts the flowers in water on his bedside table.

-*-*-

**Tuesday, April 17th, 2012**

Harry’s not really sure how to celebrate a first birthday, especially when it’s just him and Rhea, so he spends it normally. They have scrambled eggs for breakfast, Harry goes to work, Marcie orders burgers for lunch, and after work, Rhea and Harry go home and watch old CN cartoons before dinner.

Nick arrives for dinner with a dozen banana cupcakes, a big grin for Rhea and a kiss on the cheek for Harry.

“The lady I bought these from said they’re all healthy, even the cream cheese, fat-free and everything, Miss Sweetface a tummy ache.” Nick tells Harry, putting the cupcakes on the kitchen bench.

“You’re fantastic.” Harry tells Nick as he picks Rhea up from her high chair for a cuddle.

“I know.” Nick jokes, grinning cheekily. “So, when are we heading to the tattoo parlour?”

“I made an appointment for six.” Harry says serving the quesadillas out onto two plates, Rhea’s mac and cheese in her Winnie the Pooh bowl. “When have you got to leave for work?”

“Half nine.” Nick replies, sitting Rhea back in her high chair as Harry puts the food on the dining table. “Gives me plenty of time with you and Miss Sweetface.”

Once they’ve finished, Harry gets himself and Rhea ready to go out while Nick does the dishes.

The tattoo parlour is in walking distance from Harry’s flat, a place on Camden High Street called _Hell to Pay_. He has an appointment with a girl named Laura, who’s blonde and petite and covered in tattoos, and speaks with a thick Spanish accent.

“So you said on the phone you wanted to get your daughter’s name tattooed.”

Harry nods. “With the moon.”

“Full or crescent?” Laura asks, nodding.

Harry shrugs. “Whichever looks better?”

Laura nods, and she opens up her sketchbook. “So what’s her name?”

“Rhea Luna.”

A look of understanding falls over the tattooist’s face. “Ah, I see why you want the moon. Give me fifteen, twenty minutes and I’ll bring you back some ideas.”

Laura disappears into the door at the back of the shop and Harry unstraps Rhea from her pram and pulls her onto his lap.

“You okay?” Nick asks, smiling at Harry. “Nervous?”

“Surprisingly not.” Harry replies, shrugging. “I’ve always wanted tattoos, just haven’t had the chance yet.”

Nick nods.

“Have you got any?”

Nick shakes his head. “Never really wanted any.” Rhea climbs from Harry’s lap into Nick’s and reaches up to tug at his hair. “What are you doing, silly Miss Sweetface?”

Rhea climbs out of Nick’s lap, but instead of going back to Harry, she climbs off the sofa.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Harry laughs as she crawls away, reaching for her. She giggles and wiggles out of his hands, using the couch to push herself up onto her feet.

Before Harry even realises what’s happening, Rhea’s taking her first steps, _without Harry’s help_ but then she’s not walking, she’s fucking _running_ , giggling like a madwoman.

She doesn’t get very far, a few steps before she’s crashing to the ground, staring at Harry before her eyes fill with tears. Harry climbs to the floor next to her and picks her up as she wails. “Silly girl, had to run before you’d walked, didn’t you?”

“What happened?” Laura asks as she reappears.

“Tried bolting across the room.” Harry says with a laugh, shaking his head as Rhea begins to settle, snotting into his shoulder. “Got a good few feet away before she dropped like a sack of potatoes.”

Laura smiles at Rhea, who’s looking up at her, completely entranced. “Well, I’m ready for you now, love. What do you think of these?”

She holds up two pieces of paper. One has Rhea’s name in a crescent moon, the other has her name on a banner over a full moon. Harry likes them both so much he can’t decide.

He looks at Nick with a raised eyebrow.

“Go with the full moon.”

Harry agrees, and nods to Laura.

The whole process takes just over thirty minutes, and then Harry has his first tattoo on the inside of his forearm, just at the crook of his elbow. It’s wrapped up and he’s given a care instruction pamphlet, and once he’s paid, he, Nick and Rhea are off, navigating the dark streets home.

Once Harry’s had her bottle and she’s off to bed, Nick and Harry watch Batman Begins before Nick has to leave for work.

Harry walks him to the door, and before Nick leaves, he leans down and presses a soft kiss to Harry’s mouth.

It’s weird, feels a bit like kissing a sibling, and Harry tells Nick so before he can stop himself.

Nick huffs out a breath of a laugh that sounds almost relieved. “Thank God, I thought so, too.”

They laugh for a little while before Harry leans up and hugs Nick, kissing his cheeks before he goes.

-*-*-

**Sunday, July 8th, 2012**

“Why are you taking a bath at four in the afternoon?”

Harry blinks his eyes open and groans when he sees Nick standing at the bathroom door. “I’m seriously regretting giving you a key.”

“Why, though?”

Harry closes his eyes again, pulling Rhea higher up on his chest as she starts to slip down. She’s asleep, snoring softly in his ear, and twitching like she’s dreaming. “We’re in _pain_.” He tells Nick.

“In pain?”

“Yes. I think we’re like, having growth spurts or something? Everything aches.”

“Seriously?” Nick asks before a laugh bubbles out of him. “You’re still growing?”

“Fuck off Nick, or I’ll get you wet.”

“Oh, baby.” Nick jokes, grinning and wiggling his eyebrows.

Harry flicks water at him, leaving a big wet patch on his t-shirt.

“Hey!” Nick cries as Harry giggles. “That wasn’t very nice.”

“I’m not very nice.”

“Lies.” Nick says, climbing to the ground. “You’re an absolute cupcake.”

“Shut your mouth!” Harry giggles.

Rhea starts to wake up, then, blinking her eyes open and staring at Nick. Then she says, “Hi.”

Nick looks at Harry, astounded. “When did that start?”

“Yesterday. She ran up to me while I was in the kitchen and just looked at me very intensely and said _hi_. I thought her first word would be daddy or something, but no, it’s _hi_.”

Nick laughs. “At least it’s not a swear word like my niece, or dog or something. At least she can greet people now.”

Rhea tries to climb out of the tub, and Nick catches her before she falls pulling her duck towel off the sink to dry her.

“I suppose that’s true.” Harry concedes, sitting up in the tub and leaning over the side to watch Nick rub Rhea’s hair dry with the towel until she giggles.

“Goofball.” Nick tells her, fond and amused, revealing her face to kiss her on the nose.

“Do you want kids?”

“Huh?” Nick asks, blinking up at Harry. “Oh, yeah, maybe someday. I dunno.”

“I reckon you’d be a good dad. The cool dad.” Harry tells Nick, grinning brightly. “The dad all dad’s dream of being.”

Nick laughs. “You’re such a dork, Harry.”

“Ditto.” Harry tells him. “What’s with today’s visit, then, Nicholas?”

“I just missed your sunny disposition.” Nick replies, making kissing noises at Harry. “I thought you might like to come to dinner, to celebrate.”

“Celebrate? Celebrate what?”

“I’m moving to the breakfast show.” Nick replies nonchalantly, like it’s not a big deal.

“You are? That’s fantastic, Nick, I’m so happy for you!” Harry cries, flinging himself into Nick’s arms, careful of Rhea, still in Nick’s lap, squeezing Nick tight. “I’d love to come to dinner. Will it be just us, or your other friends, too?”

“Yeah, they’ll be there, is that okay?” Nick asks.

Harry pulls away and nods his head. “Yeah, that’s okay. I’d love to meet your friends. What time’s dinner?”

“Because I love you, dinner is at half five so you can get Rhea home in time for bed.” Nick says, tickling Rhea’s belly to keep her entertained so she won’t bolt for the hallway and brain herself on the tiles or stairs.

“Aw, aren’t you sweet.” Harry says. “Close your eyes so I can get out of the bath.”

Nick does, and Harry stands, climbing from the tub and wrapping a towel around his hips.

“So where will dinner be?”

“Oka in Primrose Hill.” Nick replies. Harry takes Rhea from his lap, and he follows Harry into Rhea’s room. “It’s a Japanese restaurant. Utterly fantastic.”

Harry nods and lays Rhea on the changing mat on top of her dresser. “I haven’t had sushi in an age, since before Rhea was born.”

“Can Rhea eat sushi? Is she old enough?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s alright for her to eat, just nothing raw. No sashimi, tataki, nigari, that kind of thing. It’s no good for little tummies.” Harry says, tickling Rhea’s belly until she giggles.

“They do have other mains, stuff you’d usually feed Rhea, rice and chicken, that kind of thing.”

Harry nods and wraps Rhea in a nappy. “I’m sure we’ll find her something she can eat.”

“You get her ready, I’m going to raid your closet for a dry shirt.” He pouts at Harry, smacking his bum and then disappearing out into the hallway.

“Uncle Nick’s a dork.” Harry tells Rhea, who replies with an almost melancholic _hi_.

Harry keeps a close eye on her while he picks out an outfit, dressing her and putting her in Nick’s arms when he reappears so he can get dressed, too.

Nick’s friends are already at the restaurant when he, Harry and Rhea arrive. They’re all very lovely, greeting Harry with hugs and cheek kisses, before they all sit down to eat and talk, celebrating Nick’s promotion.

-*-*-

**Saturday, August 11th, 2012**

Leaving Rhea with Marcie while Harry goes out with Nick, and a plethora of his friends for Nick’s birthday leaves him anxiety-ridden for the first two hours until he’s drunk enough to relax.

He’s dancing with Nick, who’s wearing a rather fetching _Birthday Girl_ tiara a girl celebrating her own birthday had settled onto Nick’s head with a rather sloppy kiss on the mouth ten minutes before when a familiar face catches his eye. The man with a shock of blonde hair is familiar, but Harry has no idea how.

“Who’s that?” He yells into Nick’s ear, pointing the blonde out. “D’you know him?”

Nick frowns and turns. “Uh, he kind of looks like the blonde on from that boyband, wassit? From X-Factor?”

“On Direction.” Harry replies, frowning again. “I don’t like One Direction.”

“Why not?”

“’Cause of Liam, ‘cause he’s in it.” Harry says, before uttering an _oops_ and snaking his hand over his mouth.

“Liam Payne?” He’s the hot one, I reckon. Only one I know the name of. Met him at a party or summat.” Nick says, turning back to Harry. “How’d you know Liam Payne?”

“We dated once, when we were younger.” Harry admits, shrugging his shoulders.

“You dated him? How’s he in the sack?”

Harry laughs. “We had sex in the toilets of a mini golf course, so.”

“No way.” Nick says, eyes wide. “Brilliant.”

“He’s a good lay.” Harry says, nodding his head. “I need another drink, what about you?”

“Yes, please, darling. A vodka and cranberry.” Nick replies, pressing a kiss to Harry’s cheek. “Thank you.”

Harry slides up to the bar, leaning over the counter and waving a bartender over once she’s free. “Could I get a rum and coke and a vodka and cranberry, please?”

She nods and sets about mixing his drinks as he falls into a stool at the bar. He turns so he’s facing the dancefloor to look over at Nick, who’s been joined by Gill, Henry and Kate. After a quick, cursory glance around the rest of the room, he finds Aimee and Ian in a booth, snogging, Peaches, Pixie and Kelly dancing close to the DJ’s booth, and other friends of Nick’s, around the room, six or seven names he can’t remember, familiar faces here and there.

He’s distracted by someone falling into the seat beside him, and Harry doesn’t realise who it is until it’s too late.

“Hi, Harry.” Liam says, quiet, rubbing the back of his neck.

He looks good, taller and stronger than the last time Harry saw him, wearing tight black jeans and a long sleeved black t-shirt. His Hair’s shorter, curved up into a quiff, and Harry kinda wants to run his fingers through it, mess it up, mess him up. He looks too put together to be the Liam Harry remembers.

“Hi, Liam.” Harry replies.

“What, uh, what are you doing here?” Liam asks, then winces. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“It’s my friend’s birthday.” Harry admits, nodding his head in Nick’s direction. “What about you?”

“Just… hanging out, having some drinks with my mates.” Liam replies, shrugging his shoulders. “My kidney grew back.”

Harry’s drinks arrive, and he pays for them, before saying in utter disbelief, “It grew back?”

Liam nods, grinning. “How weird is that? I had an ultrasound and the doctor was like _huh, two kidneys_.”

“That’s fucking weird, but also amazing. I’m glad you’re doing well, Liam.” Harry looks at the drink and then turns back to give Liam an apologetic smile. “I’ve gotta get the birthday boy his drink before he gets grumpy.”

He thinks he hears Liam call _wait_ , but he’s already gone, back to the gang, handing Nick his drink.

He feels Liam’s eyes on him, and he tries to ignore it, tries not to acknowledge him, but he can’t help himself, catching Liam’s eyes more times than he cares to count.

Finally, Harry can’t take it anymore, and he kisses apologies and farewells to his friend’s cheeks, before stumbling outside to the taxi rank.

He realises Liam’s followed him out when a voice behind him says, “I need to talk to you.”

Harry looks back and sighs. “Liam–”

“Please, ten minutes, that’s all. Just ten minutes.” Liam begs.

Harry sighs again and wipes his hands down his face. “Ten minutes, Liam. I need coffee before I head home. I think there’s a twenty-four-hour diner down the street.”

Liam sighs, relieved, and nods his head.

Harry pulls on his coat and shoves his hands into the pockets, sliding past Liam and heading up the street, listening for following steps.

The diners almost completely empty when they get there, sitting in the back and ordering coffee from the teenage boy on shift.

“How’ve you been?” Is the first thing Liam asks.

“Okay.” Harry says, quietly. He wants to tell Liam everything, suddenly, spill his guts, so to speak. “Not been up to much, really, not like you. Famous and all that.”

Liam flushes and shrugs. “I guess so.”

“I miss you.” Harry says before he can stop himself. Then, “I’m sorry, I’m really drunk.”

“I miss you, too.” Liam admits.

Their coffee arrives, and they’re flung into silence.

“When did you move to London?” Liam asks after a while.

“February.” Harry replies, sipping at his coffee. “My dad gave me and my – me, a flat for my eighteenth birthday.”

“You and your?”

“Sister.” Harry lies, voice a little squeaky. “She decided she wanted to stay in Manchester, so it’s just mine.”

Liam nods, though he looks like he wants to argue. “Are you in Uni?”

Harry shakes his head. “No, I decided I didn’t want to go. I work at a florist’s.”

“A florist’s? That sounds just like you.” Liam says.

They catch up on each other’s lives for longer than the originally promised ten minutes, drinking their way through at least half a litre of coffee each, until the sun begin’s to rise.

Outside, fuelled by coffee, lack of sleep, bad decisions and rekindled love, Harry gets his hand around Liam’s nape and pulls him in for a fevered kiss, which Liam greedily accepts.

“Come home with me.” Liam says, softly into Harry’s mouth.

Harry sighs and pulls away. He’s got a baby waiting for him, almost ready to get up, but he wants to say yes so bad. “No.” He mumbles.

As if god’s thanking him for keeping it in his pants this time, a taxi appears just in time, and Harry flags it down.

“Harry, please.”

“I’ve got to go, Liam.” Harry says, pulling open the back door of the cab. “Goodbye, Liam.”

Liam looks defeated, and Harry slides into the back seat, shutting the door and giving the cab driver his address.

He watches Liam watch him as the cab pulls away from the curb and back onto the street.

Harry cries for the first time in a while, in the back of a filthy cab, with a creepy driver, at half six in the morning.

When he gets home, he takes a long shower, and by the time Marcie’s dropping Rhea off for breakfast, he feels human again, human enough to trick himself into thinking he wasn’t breaking apart.


	4. Part Four

**Tuesday, January 1st, 2013**

Harry meets Ezra for the first time a few minutes after New Year’s has hit. Harry’s drunk enough that when a stranger gets close in front of him on the dancefloor, he goes with it when he normally wouldn’t.

He’s gorgeous, Native American, Harry thinks, with warm caramel coloured skin, dark chocolate eyes, and dark, thick hair that reaches only an inch or so above his elbows. He’s tall, taller than Harry, but only by a bit, and he’s wearing a black t-shirt so tight it outlines every single muscle he has.

Harry gets his arms around his shoulders, and he gets his hands around Harry’s hips, and they move their hips to the beat.

They’re pressed tightly together, dancing for twenty minutes, maybe longer, until Harry leans up to tell the other man that he’s going to the bar for a drink.

Harry orders a rum and coke, and the man orders an Asahi, paying for them both and leaning over to say, “I’m Ezra, by the way.”

“Harry.” Harry replies, running his fingers through his hair. “Thanks for the drink.”

“No problem, Harry.” Ezra replies. “Enjoying your New Year’s?”

“Now, more than before?” Harry says with a grin as Ezra’s handed his drink.

Ezra laughs. “I’m glad.” He’s got a thick estuary accent, and his voice, deep and rough, makes Harry’s belly go all hot and tight.

Harry starts to speak again, but he’s interrupted by Nick, who wraps his arms around Harry from behind, smelling like booze and someone else’s cologne, pressing his face into Harry’s hair.

“Hazza.” He says.

“Grimmy.” Harry replies.

“Can you get home alright by yourself?”

“Sure. Why?” Harry asks.

“Pretty lad, nice bum.” Nick says, pressing a sloppy kiss to Harry’s cheek before he pulls away. “Give Rhea a kiss for me!” He calls as he disappears into the crowd towards the front entrance.

“Was that Nick Grimshaw? From the radio?” Ezra asks when Harry turns back to him.

“The one and only. And yes, he’s just as mental in real life.” Harry jokes.

Ezra laughs, and then after a moment, his face turns serious. “Who’s Rhea? Is she your girlfriend?”

“Rhea?” Harry says, eyes wide. “Oh god, no. Rhea’s my daughter.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“No, it’s okay.” Harry says with a shrug, smiling at Ezra.

“I have a kid, too. A boy. Leonardo. He’s five months.” Ezra replies as Harry’s drink is finally set down in front of him with an apology from the bartender. “How old’s Rhea?”

“Almost two.” Harry replies after he’s taken a sip of his drink. “She turns two in April.”

Ezra smiles softly like he’s remembering something, and then he says, “Children change everything, don’t they?”

Harry nods.

“I’m gonna go outside for a cigarette. D’you wanna join me?”

Harry swallows as much of his drink as he can and nods.

Ezra stands and holds his hand out to Harry, which he takes, following him outside into the cold.

Ezra takes off his leather jacket and puts it around Harry’s shoulders when they reach the alley next to the nightclub, reaching in the pocket for his cigarette packet and lighter.

“Thank you.” Harry says, sliding his arms through the jacket’s arms. It’s a little too big for him, sleeves reaching past Harry’s fingers, but it’s warm, and it smells nice.  
“You’re welcome. D’you want one?” Ezra asks, holding a cigarette out for Harry.

Harry takes it and thanks Ezra before he puts it in his mouth. Ezra flicks open his zippo and turns on the flame, lighting Harry’s cigarette.

Ezra gets his own out and lights it while Harry’s taking his first drag, pushing through the tickle in his throat and enjoying the calmness it brings to his mind.

The lean against the brick wall, side by side, smoking, talking, and laughing at each other’s stories.

Long after they’ve finished their second cigarettes, Harry leans over and kisses Ezra, hand around his cheek, licking the taste of smoke and beer from his mouth until all he can taste is Ezra, sweet and soft and warm.

Ezra presses Harry up against the wall, squeezing in close, getting his hands around Harry’s face and holding him close, Harry wraps his arms around Ezra’s waist, hands meeting in the middle as they kiss, his belly hot and his cock hard in his jeans.

“Can I take you home?” Ezra whispers into Harry’s mouth when they break for air.

“Please.” Harry says, unclasping his hands and taking Ezra’s, stretched out for him.

They take a taxi back to Ezra’s, an apartment on the fifth floor of a building in the city, close to the bridge. They kiss in the elevator on the way up, and through the flat to Ezra’s bedroom.

Ezra tugs off Harry’s shirt at the foot of the bed, then lays him down in the sheets, trailing hot, wet kisses from his mouth, down his throat to his chest, then to his navel, sucking a mark below his belly button.

Ezra takes off Harry’s boots first, and then reaches up to unbutton and unzip his jeans, tugging them down his legs, and latching his mouth around the head of Harry’s cock through his briefs.

“Fuck.” Harry groans, falling back against the bed, reaching down to wrap his fingers in Ezra’s hair. When he tugs, Ezra makes this low, groaning sound deep in his throat that vibrates out against Harry’s cock, and Harry leans up on one of his elbows to say, “Do you like that?”

Ezra laughs, and the vibrations make Harry’s cock twitch, and sparks go through his belly. “You sound like a bad porno.”

“I was being completely serious.”

Ezra laughs again. “I know, that’s what makes it so funny.” He blinks up at Harry and reaches back to take the hand in his hair, pulling it tight, away from his scalp until his eyes flutter closed. “I like it.”

He gets Harry’s briefs down around his thighs and goes back in, sucking around the head of Harry’s cock as Harry pulls at his hair.

Ezra’s mouth is hot and wet and tight, and it makes Harry thinks of fucking him. God, he hasn’t fucked anybody in so long.

“Ezra, fuck, Ezra, your clothes.”

Ezra pulls his mouth from Harry’s cock, red and shiny with spit, and harry untangles his fingers from his hair so he can undress. Every part of him is hard; his biceps, his abs, but his cock especially so, long and thick and wet at the tip.

“Come here.” Harry says, sitting up and holding his hands out for Ezra, who climbs back onto the bed, over Harry’s lap, reaching down to take Harry’s face in his hands, kissing him. “Can I fuck you? Or do you want to fuck me?”

Ezra’s grin is filthy. “I’m sure we can get to both, but for now, I’m going to lick you out and get my dick in you.”

Harry nods and goes when Ezra pushes him back onto the bed. “Yeah, yeah.”

“On your front, darling?” Ezra asks, towering over Harry. Harry nods, and Ezra climbs out of his lap to let him turn over, opening the top drawer of his bedside table, getting out a bottle of lube and a couple condoms. He takes a pillow from the head of the bed and uses it to prop up Harry’s hips, getting in between his thighs.

Nothing happens for a few moments, like Ezra’s just staring, but then there’s a wet finger rubbing over Harry’s hole, a thumb, and Harry moans into his arm. Ezra pushes the tip of his thumb through Harry’s hole, sliding it into the last knuckle, before running his tongue around it.

By the time Ezra’s finally gotten Harry ready, he’s practically begging, rutting his hips down into the pillow, so, so close, yet so far.

Ezra pulls his fingers from Harry and leans up to press his face into Harry’s throat, sucking a mark into his skin, and says, “Do you want it like this?” sliding his cock through the crevice between Harry’s cheeks, the head catching on Harry’s hole. “Or on your back? On top? Maybe on your hands and knees?”

Harry groans, reaching back to get a handful of Ezra’s hair, pulling him in for a rough kiss, licking into his mouth, tasting lube and himself, which he finds, surprisingly, not as gross as he thought it would be. “Get on your back.”

“Please.” Ezra replies, amused, eyebrow raised.

Harry laughs. “Get on your back, _please_.”

Ezra climbs off of Harry and they swap spots, with Ezra on his back and Harry with his thighs on either side of Ezra’s hips. He reaches behind himself and takes Ezra’s cock in hand. It’s already covered in a condom, so Harry presses the head to his hole. The slide down hurts, but only a little, and soon enough, Harry’s stuffed full of cock.

“Okay?” Ezra asks, tracing the wing of the bird on Harry’s right pec.

Harry nods, planting his hands on Ezra’s thighs, lifting his hips up, sliding up Ezra’s cock, then back down again, squeezing his hole when he bottoms out so Ezra groans.

Ezra takes a tight hold of Harry’s hips, digging his fingers into Harry’s flesh until Harry knows there’ll be bruises there later.

Harry rides Ezra until his thighs burn and Ezra can’t say much more than _Harry_ and _fuck_

Harry comes first, once Ezra’s gotten a hand around his cock, and when he’s spilt his come over Ezra’s hand and belly, he collapses on top of Ezra. He fucks Harry through the sensitivity and aftershocks, chasing his own orgasm, until his hips stutter and he spills into the condom.

Ezra flips them over so Harry’s on his back and pulls out with a thick wet sound. He cleans them both up and gets back into bed, around Harry’s back, arm flung over Harry’s waist, pressing a kiss to Harry’s shoulder.

“When we wake up, I’ll make you breakfast, and you can fuck me over the kitchen counter.”

Harry likes that idea.

-*-*-

**Wednesday, January 23rd, 2013**

Harry’d left Ezra’s place before he could get his phone number down, and a fortnight later, he honestly can’t find it in himself to care all that much.

Things go back to normal, and Harry gets his first solo wedding, which is taking up all his time. It’s small, the wedding planner he met with said sixty to seventy-five people, but it’s big budget, and every floral arrangement was to be orchid-based. That’s ten table bouquets, a bridal bouquet, two bridal party bouquets, three boutonnières and the chairs and arch for the ceremony. Harry thinks he might be a little in over his head. Marcie disagrees.

Harry’s doing a rough ( _really rough_ ) sketch of what he thinks the arch should look like, sipping at a god awful kale smoothie Marcie had brought him, that he didn’t have the heart to refuse, when Nick appears from the front room.

“How would you like to go on a double date?” Nick says, swapping Harry’s kale smoothie for his iced mocha, because he’s either the best friend on the planet, or he _actually_ likes it. Harry reckons it’s a bit of both.

“Doesn’t really sound all that appealing.” Harry replies, running his fingers through his hair. He doesn’t look up from the sketchbook until he’s decided he’s getting nowhere.

“Please, Harry? Be there so it’s not awkward.” Nick whines, pouting out his bottom lip. “You were so focused after New Years. Maybe if you get another shag it’ll help you through the wedding?”

Harry raises his eyebrow at Nick and takes a sip of the iced mocha. “No, Nicholas.”

“Please, I’ll love you forever.”

“I’d hope you’d already love me forever.”

Nick pouts a little harder, and it’s quite a sight.

“Maybe, okay.”

Rhea fusses in her travel cot, and Harry goes to check on her, but Nick gets to her first, lifting her into his arms. “How’s it going, Miss Sweetface?”

“Nick.” She says simply, like that’s an answer, before she lays her head on Nick’s shoulder and falls back asleep.

Nick smiles and nods. “Yeah, turkey, cranberry and brie again?”

“Please.” Harry replies, climbing off his stool and taking Rhea from Nick, kissing Nick’s cheek before he puts Rhea back in the cot.

While he’s gone, Harry puts on the radio and gets back to work. He’s thinking about memory lane roses when a familiar voice fills the room.

“You’re bloody inescapable!” Harry cries to the radio as Liam and his bandmates talk about their new album, _Take Me Home_.

“ _Rock Me_ is my favourite, I reckon. I wrote some of it in, like, twenty-eleven, mostly to combat boredom while we were touring with the X-Factor. Louis nicked it and showed it to Linda and suddenly we were recording it for the album.”

Harry doesn’t know why he hasn’t turned it off yet, finger poised over the off button, just listening.

“What’s it about?” Scott Mills asks.

“Just someone I used to know.” Liam replies before other voices begin to snicker. He’s told his bandmates about Harry, and Harry’s not sure how he feels about it.

Scott plays the song, and Harry feels like he’s going to cry for the millionth time since he met Liam, because even with all the changes made, 2010 to 2009, Harry knows it’s about him, Liam wrote a song about _him_.

He decides, then, to go on the double date with Nick’s friend.

-*-*-

**Saturday, January 26th, 2013**

Harry’s date, Jackson, is hot, but he’s boring as fuck, and kinda stuck up. It doesn’t stop Harry from sleeping with him, though. He’s just as boring when he shags as when he talk, missionary and everything, so once he’s gone to sleep, Harry calls a taxi and takes it home. 

His mum’s in the lounge room watching _Law & Order: SVU_, and once Harry’s kicked his shoes off by the door and hung his jacket on the hook, he falls onto the couch next to her.

“How’d it go, then?”

Harry shrugs. “Fine, I guess. Won’t see him again.”

His mum chuckles and curls her arm around Harry’s shoulder, pulling him into her side.

“What’s the story?” Harry asks, turning to the TV where the police are breaking into a suspect’s house.

“Uh… kidnapping case, it’s almost done.” His mum replies. “What happened tonight?”

“God, he was _so boring_.” Harry’s mum laughs again. “I don’t know where Nick found him.”

“Obviously he wasn’t _too_ boring.”

Harry groans. “Oh god, it was worse than listening to him talk.”

His mum laughs again, shaking her head. “Then why’d you do it?”

Harry shrugs. “I dunno. To prove I could?”

“To prove you…” she laughs harder. “God.”

“Leave me alone.” Harry groans, grinning in amusement right after. “D’you want a cuppa, anyway?”

His mum smiles and nods, and Harry climbs off the couch and heads for the kitchen.

-*-*-

**Tuesday, February 5th, 2013**

Harry’s working on a display bouquet in the back room when the wedding planner Harry’s been working with appears, followed by a woman he suspects is the bride and a girl who has to be the bride’s daughter.

“Hi, everyone, c’mon in.” He says, lifting the bouquet and putting it on the shelf behind him. He takes the three bouquets from the shelf below and puts it on the table in front of the group of women. “I’m Harry, by the way.” He says, holding his hand out to the two women he hasn’t met.

The bride, an Asian-looking woman with dark curly hair and deep brown eyes that remind Harry of someone he can’t name, introduces herself as Aiyana. Her daughter has a more African colouring, but the same curls and eyes, and introduces herself as Maya.

“So, what have you got for us, Harry?” The wedding planner, a middle-aged blonde woman named Hannah asks, smiling kindly.

“So, I made three options, all with orchids, just like you asked. The first,” Harry begins, pushing the Vanda orchid bouquet forward so the three women in front of him can take a look. “Is made with vanda orchids, memory lane roses, avalanche roses, white bouvardia, white alstroemeria, tanacetum baya, green bell and parvifolia eucalyptus.” He points out each flower and plant as he names them. He gives them a few moments to study the bouquet before he moves on to the cymbidium orchid. “This one has pink cymbidium orchids, avalanche roses, white eustoma, tanacetum baya, white alstroemeria, pink veronica and greenbell.” He gives them a moment, and then moves onto the last bouquet. “The last has white Phalaenopsis orchids, avalanche roses, white carnations, white bouvardia, white eustoma, ammi, green hypericum berry and greenbell.” He looks behind them at Rhea, who’s peering curiously out at the newcomers. “Why don’t you have a look and talk amongst yourselves, and let me know if you decide anything.”

He sidesteps the table and goes to Rhea’s cot to pull her out, taking the bottle of milk from the warming pocket in the nappy bag. He gives her the bottle and goes back to his spot across the table from Aiyana, Maya and Hannah.

“Could I take the berries out of the white bunch?” Aiyana asks.

“Yeah, of course!” He says, smiling and nodding his head.

Aiyana does, and then looks at her daughter who says, “Honestly, I like the pink better.”

After a little longer, they decide on the cymbidium bouquet, and then talk about boutonnières.

The door opens, and someone else appears, someone Harry knows rather intimately.

“Ezra.” Harry says, eyes wide in surprise as he stares at the man from New Years. He’s wearing his long hair up in a bun, and he’s got a baby in a sling against his back, out like a light.

“Harry.” Ezra looks just as surprised as he feels. “What are you doing here?”

“I work here.”

“You two know each other?” Aiyana asks, and now Harry realises why she looked so familiar. She’s got to be either Ezra’s sister or his mum; she’s young enough that he can’t tell which. 

“We met on New Year’s.”

“Oh.” Maya giggles. Harry realises Ezra must have told her about New Years. “Mum, Hannah, let’s go look at the flowers in the front.”

They disappear through the door, and Harry and Ezra are left alone.

“Is this Rhea?” Ezra asks, after a beat’s silence, and then he says, “You left before I woke up.”

“I had to get home so my mum could drive back to Cheshire.” Harry explains. “I did want to stay, but you slept in quite late, and I didn’t want to wake you.” He slides past Ezra and puts Rhea back into the travel cot.

“I didn’t expect you’d be a florist.” Ezra says, voice quiet. “I reckon it suits you.”

Harry shrugs and thanks him.

There’s a pregnant pause, and the awkwardness of it makes Harry want to grimace.

“Would you be willing to have dinner with me?” Ezra says, all in one breath.

Harry smiles softly. “Alright, yeah.”

After they swap numbers, Ezra brings his mum and sister back in, and Harry goes through the rest of his plans with them.

-*-*-

**Saturday, February 16th, 2013**

After almost two weeks of texts and calls between Harry and Ezra, Harry finally agrees to a date on a Saturday night.

He meets Ezra at a restaurant in Notting Hill called The Ledbury. It’s a proper date restaurant, and Harry’s glad he decided to borrow Nick’s Gucci shirts to wear with his skinny jeans and Chelsea boots.

It’s a bit awkward for the first ten minutes, but once they started talking, they couldn’t stop. 

Ezra tells Harry about moving to London from New York, about growing up with a model mother, and becoming one himself, and the birth of his son. Harry talks about growing up in Holmes Chapel, of his dreams of being a singer and how they shattered when he had Rhea, though he wouldn’t have it any other way.

They laugh when Harry tells Ezra about the time he went into Rhea’s room to check on her when she was supposed to be napping, and found her room and her room cover in talcum powder, and then just looked at him and said _oops_. They smile when Ezra tells Harry about the first time Mateo laughed, how he’d been upset, and Mateo had just started laughing, and how it’d cheered Ezra up instantly.

They find out they have a lot more in common than both being single father; they both like crime shows, and romantic comedies, and they both love horses and cats.

They talk long into the night, until closing, and then stand in the parking lot smoking against Harry’s Rover for another half hour after that.

When Ezra kisses Harry, he was expecting it, hoping for it. He presses Harry against the side of the car and licks into his mouth, holding Harry’s jaw in his hand.

Harry drives them back to Ezra’s flat, leaving Ezra’s car in the parking lot. They barely make it to his bedroom, before they’re stripping, on each other in an instant.

Harry pushes Ezra onto the mattress and climbs on top of him, grinding his cock into Ezra’s.

Harry gets to fuck Ezra this time, on his stomach with Harry’s hand in his hair.

Once they’ve come and they’re both cleaned up, Ezra curls around Harry’s back like the last time and says, “We should do this again.”

“And again, and again, and again.” Harry laughs.

-*-*-

**Friday, March 15th, 2013**

For the next month, Harry and Ezra go on regular dates, Fridays and Saturdays, to the movies, to dinner.

On the third Friday of March, Harry invites Ezra and Mateo over for dinner, so Harry can properly meet Mateo and Ezra can properly meet Rhea.

Harry makes honey soy chicken and cashew stir fry with Hokkien noodles, and it’s ready by the time Ezra arrives at half five with two merlots and a homemade caramel cheesecake.

He greets Harry with a soft kiss and the leans down into the pram to pull Mateo out.

“Can I hold him?” Harry asks, holding his hands out for Mateo. Ezra passes him over. “Hello, darling.”

Mateo looks just like his dad, with his big brown eyes and his dark hair, and he’s got the loveliest smile.

“C’mon, darling, let’s go introduce you and daddy to Rhea.” Harry says, before leading Ezra into the lounge room, where Rhea’s watching _The Aristocats_ , colouring on the floor. “Rhea.”

She doesn’t look up at Harry, just hums.

Harry watches Ezra kneel on the floor next to Rhea and says, “What are you drawing.”

She looks up at Ezra. “Bu’fly. Who you?”

“Rhea, this is daddy’s friend, Ezra.” Harry tells her, kneeling next to Ezra. “And this is Mateo.”

Rhea climbs to her feet and walks over to Harry to look at Mateo. “Baby.” She says, blinking up at Harry curiously.

“Yeah, he is a baby.”

She then looks over at Ezra, reaching for his hair. “Pretty.”

“Thank you, love.” Ezra replies, smiling and letting Rhea run her fingers through his hair.

“Daddy, braid!” She suddenly shouts excitedly, holding Ezra’s hair out to Harry. “Like aunty!”

Harry and Ezra laugh, and Harry says, “Daddy doesn’t know how, darling.”

Rhea frowns and looks at Ezra’s hair, then back up at Ezra, holding his hair out for him. “Ezra braid?”

“How about after dinner?” Ezra suggests.

“Dinner, yum, yum.” Rhea agrees, letting go of Ezra’s hair, standing up on her chubby little legs. “Me too, please.” She says before she toddles off towards the kitchen.

Ezra and Harry laugh in her absence until Mateo joins in.

In the kitchen, Rhea’s climbed up onto one of the dining room chairs and is trying to get into her high chair. Harry sits her on the dining chair she’s standing on and then puts Mateo into the high chair. Harry tells Ezra to sit down and then puts a plate in front of him and Rhea, and then sits down with his own.

After dinner, Ezra offers to clean the dishes and make bottles while Harry gets Mateo and Rhea in the bath. Rhea’s all too happy to include Mateo in her bath time play, teaching him how to make the rubber duck squeak so he’ll giggle.

Mateo’s bag is waiting in Rhea’s room with his pyjamas inside, and once Rhea’s got a nappy on, and is sitting on the floor, Harry starts on dressing him.

He’s done when Ezra appears with the bottles, and takes Rhea’s from him so he can feed Mateo in the armchair. He sets about putting Rhea into her Winnie the Pooh pyjamas and into her cot with her bottle.

Once both Rhea and Mateo are asleep, Harry and Ezra slip into the hallway.

“They’re asleep.” Harry says softly.

“They are.” Ezra agrees, just as softly, before walking Harry back against the hallway wall. “Thank fuck.”

Harry can only laugh for a second before Ezra’s kissing him, his face in Ezra’s hands. Ezra licks into his mouth and grinds his hips against Harry, and Harry’s belly feels hot and tight, lick it might explode.

“Bedroom.” Harry manages to mumble through hot kisses and desperate breaths. Ezra walks him backwards into his room, and Harry puts the baby monitor on the bedside table and lets Ezra push him down on the bed.

After kissing for so long Harry’s lips are almost numb and his cock’s so hard he thinks he might explode, Ezra crawls down his legs and gets his jeans and briefs off, latching his mouth onto Harry’s cock.

“Fuck.” Harry groans, struggling out of his shirt before getting his hands in Ezra’s hair. “Fuck, your mouth.”

After a month of shagging, plus New Year’s, Harry’s learnt that Ezra likes sucking cock more than anyone Harry’s ever met. And he’s good at it too, mouth just tight enough, just wet enough.

Harry comes before he can stop himself, or warn Ezra, but Ezra takes it in stride, swallowing it down, a little dripping down from the corners of his mouth.

Harry sits up and pulls Ezra forward, licking the come from his mouth and chin before kissing him, half-heartedly unbuttoning Ezra’s shirt.

They get Ezra naked, and Harry reaches for the lube and condoms.

Ezra takes so long fingering Harry that after a while, Harry begins to threaten to cut off his bollocks until he finally, _finally_ gets his cock in Harry.

Ezra fucks him slow and deep until Harry thinks he might cry, holding onto the bed frame for dear life as he moans Ezra’s name. Ezra attaches his mouth to Harry’s nipple and sucks and bites until it’s red and puffy, then moves onto the next one to do the same.

“God, don’t stop, go faster.” Harry groans breathlessly.

Ezra fucks him harder and faster, Harry meets him on every thrust, and together they create a punishing rhythm that has Harry unable to speak, just moaning and whimpering, back arched and throat bared for Ezra’s mouth.

Ezra comes first, pulling out and ripping off the condom so he can spill over Harry’s belly and cock, using his come to jerk Harry to his own orgasm.

They collapse on the bed next to each other, panting. “Jesus Christ.” Is all Harry can say.

“Agreed.” Ezra says, kissing Harry before climbing off the bed to get a flannel to clean them both. 

”I really like you.” Harry admits quietly, when they’re clean and curled up together under the blanket.

Ezra’s arm tightens around Harry’s front, hand on his belly, and he presses a soft kiss to Harry’s shoulder. “I really like you, too.”

They’re not even asleep when Mateo begins crying in the next room, and Harry climbs out of the bed first, pressing a kiss to Ezra’s mouth.

While he’s changing Mateo’s nappy, he could actually love Ezra. And maybe all those times he told himself he’d be alright, he wasn’t lying.

-*-*-

**Saturday, April 20th, 2013**

Harry, Ezra and Nick drive down to Holmes Chapel with Rhea and Mateo for Rhea’s second birthday on a warm spring day.

His grandparents have already arrived by the time they get to Harry’s mum’s house at midday.

Harry’s probably more excited than Rhea is, especially when his mum leads him upstairs to his bedroom where, on his bed, a little black and white kitten is asleep in a carrier.

His mum had suggested the kitten idea at the beginning of the year, and after they’d seen pictures of a neighbour of his mum’s litter, they couldn’t help themselves.

“Should we name them or let Rhea decide?” Harry’s mum asks as she reaches into the carrier for the little kitten.

“We’ll probably end up with something like Prince.” Harry laughs. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to use the name Lucifer?”

“And I’d never let you!” His mum laughs.

“We’ll name him Lucifer and Rhea can call him Lucy.”

His mum laughs harder.

“Shush.” Harry tells her, grinning.

They bring the kitten out after lunch and cake (cake that ends up all over Rhea’s hands and face), and Rhea’s so excited Harry has to sit her in his lap when she’s given him, in case her excitement scares him.

After presents and goodbyes to Harry’s sister, grandparents and Nick, Ezra and Harry put Rhea and Mateo down for naps in Harry’s old bed, with the kitten, who’re just as worn out as the kids.

In the hallway, Harry curls his arms around Ezra’s neck and leans in for a kiss. “Thank you for coming.”

Ezra doesn’t say anything, he just smiles softly and kisses Harry again, hands around his waist.

“I think you’re absolutely wonderful.”

Ezra laughs softly. “The same could be said about you, love.” He presses his forehead to Harry’s. “C’mon, let’s go help your mum clean up.”

-*-*-

**Wednesday, June 12th, 2013**

Harry realises he and Ezra are dating, like proper boyfriends, on the second Wednesday in June. He’s up early making tea and breakfast in a pair of Ezra’s joggers with Mateo in a sling against his back. He realises it when he pulls his favourite mug from the cupboard (it says _I have more issues than Vogue_ , and Harry doesn’t know why, but it makes his giggle every time he uses it) and pushes the basket of clean laundry (made up of a mixture of his, Ezra’s, Rhea’s and Mateo’s clothes) across the counter so he can put plates down.

He doesn’t know why he realises it _then_ , not when Ezra’s mum’s wedding invitations came in the mail addressed to _Ezra and Mateo Locklear and Harry and Rhea Styles_ , or when Harry had asked Ezra to get out the dustpan and broom from the obscure cupboard in the laundry when Rhea had broken a glass, and Ezra had known where it was, and had been back with it in seconds.

It’s a bit jarring, and when Ezra appears with Rhea in his arms, Harry turns to him and says, “We’re proper boyfriends.”

Ezra looks at him, confused for only a moment, before he laughs. “You’re just now figuring this out?” He presses a kiss to Harry’s mouth before lifting Rhea into her high chair. _Her_ high chair. There was _two_ in Ezra’s kitchen.

“I’m a little slow on the uptake.” Harry admits, putting bowls of porridge in front of Rhea and on Mateo’s high chair, staying still so Ezra can pull Mateo from the sling on Harry.

“More than a little.” Ezra jokes, kissing Harry again when he cries _hey!_ “Hey, you know I love you.” His cheeks pink when he realises what he’s said. “I mean–”

Harry grins and pulls him in for a kiss. “Shut up, I love you, too.”

Ezra grins right back and they kiss again.

“Now go eat the breakfast I painstakingly made for you.” Harry tells him around and smacking his bum to get him moving towards the breakfast bench while Ezra laughs.

-*-*-

**Monday, August 19th, 2013**

In the days leading up to Aiyana’s wedding, Harry spends more time preserving flowers in paraffin wax than he does with anything or anyone, including Rhea, Ezra and Mateo. A week before the wedding he’s preserved at least a thousand flowers, and he’s not even halfway done.

It’s past eight, and the shop’s long since closed, Marcie long gone, and Harry’s still in the back room, preserving flowers.

Rhea’s at home with Ezra and Mateo, and Harry thanks God he’d decided to leave her for the day. He hasn’t had a chance to eat, and he couldn’t do that to her.

There’s a knock on the shop door, and Harry curses himself for leaving the light on, before cursing the bloody bugger outside.

The bloody bugger that just so happens to be Liam fucking Payne, because the universe hates Harry.

“Liam.”

“Harry, hi, I didn’t… are you open?”

Harry shakes his head. “No, I’m doing overtime.”

Liam looks upset, but he nods. Harry thinks he might suddenly want to talk to Harry like he did last time they saw each other, but instead he says, “I’ll go to Tesco or something, then.” And Harry’s not sure how he feels about that.

“Blasphemy.” Harry says, opening the door up wide. “Get inside. No one’ll buy flowers at fucking Tesco on my watch.”

Liam follows Harry in, smiling gratefully.

He picks out a bunch with oriental lilies and dolomiti roses, and Harry wraps it and rings it up.

“I hope your girlfriend like them.” Harry says, almost pettily, before he can stop himself.

Liam looks shocked, and then goes pink. “It’s… they’re actually for me mum. But I do, uh, have one. A girlfriend.”

“I’m happy for you.” Harry says, as convincingly as he possibly can, though he wants to spit _I know_. Fuck himself for listening to Aimee and Gills gossip about celebrity couples.

“Thank you?” Liam says, almost like a question.

And because Harry’s hungry and tired and altogether sick of seeing Liam around every goddamned corner, he kisses him. He fucking _kisses_ him.

He pulls back and covers his mouth with his hand. “God, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

Liam touches his lips with his fingers, eyes wide.

Suddenly, Liam’s on _him_ , kissing him, hot and wet and vicious, pressing him up against the counter.

Somehow, they end up on the couch in the office, naked, Liam’s spit-slick fingers inside Harry, and god did Harry miss Liam.

They fuck like that, dirty and rough, Harry screaming out Liam’s name.

When they’re done, Harry’s filled with regret, and he kicks Liam out before he can say anything.

He sits on the couch, half-naked, for at least half an hour before he finds his phone and with shaky hands, dials Gemma’s number.

“Gemma, I slept with Liam.” He says when she answers, before she can greet him.

“You did what?” She asks, voice high.

Harry blurts the story out through tears, putting his clothes back on slowly.

By the end of it, he’s a big, snotty mess and he can’t stand Gemma’s murmured _it’s going to be alright_ s.

“I’m not going to tell Ezra.”

“Harry…” Gemma says softly, voice almost scolding.

“I won’t do that to him. God, Gemma, I love him too much to tell him I cheated on him with my first love. It’d break his heart.”

Gemma sighs. “I can’t make you do it.”

“No, you can’t. I gotta go.” He hangs up before she can reply.

He cleans the couch and the back room, putting the paraffin and newly waxed flowers in the cool room, before heading home.

He checks on Rhea and Mateo before taking a shower, washing Liam off him until he’s red and raw, and then climbing into bed, into Ezra’s arms.

-*-*-

**Monday, August 26th, 2013**

The day of Aiyana’s wedding, Harry’s up early finishing the last of the arrangement. While Ezra, Mateo and Rhea are with Aiyana.

He has just enough time to change into his new suit before he heads over to the venue, The Roof Gardens in Kensington, with Marcie to set up the flowers.

He finds Ezra, Rhea and Mateo in a room downstairs when he’s done, with the bridal party.

It’s beautiful wedding and a fantastic ceremony where Harry gets piss drunk and dances the night away with Ezra and their kids.

Aiyana and her new husband, John, take Rhea and Mateo for their own dance, and Harry and Ezra sneak off to fuck in the toilets.

It’s great fun, and for a night, Harry forgets about what happened the week before.

-*-*-

**Friday, September 20th, 2013**

It all comes crashing down a month later.

Harry’s sick as a dog for a week, and he might not be the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he’s not _stupid_. He’s pregnant again.

A pregnancy test proves him right, and he calls Gemma.

“I’m pregnant.” He tells her. “It’s Liam’s.” He sighs. “I think.”

After a lecture that lasts over an hour, Gemma sighs and says, “What are you going to do?”

“I have to break up with Ezra.” Harry says softly.

“And how well did that work last time?”

Harry sighs, because he knows she’s right. “I’ll tell him. Everything.”

“Are you sure?”

Harry sighs again. “Yes. And I think I need to tell Liam as well.” He runs his fingers through his hair. “I have to go, Gemma. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Hazza.” She says before she hangs up.

Harry spends the entire afternoon working up his nerve, waiting for Ezra to arrive.

When he does, they put Mateo in the lounge room with Rhea and Harry puts the kettle on.

“I have to tell you something.” He says, running his fingers through his hair nervously. “I… God, Ezra, I’m so sorry, I had sex with my ex.”

Ezra’s face goes blank, smile slipping from his mouth. “What?”

“I’m so, so sorry.”

“I don’t… when?”

“About a month ago.” Harry admits.

Suddenly, Ezra looks murderous. “A month? A month? You lied to me for a month?”

Harry winces. “That’s uh, not all.”

“What else, Harry?”

“Well, uh, there’s no easy way to say this… so, I’m pregnant.”

Ezra frowns. “Come again?”

“It’s a genetic abnormality, and it’s not the point.”

“Is… who’s is it? Mine, or _his_?”

“I don’t… god, I don’t know.” Harry replies, and he realises he’s crying, tears dripping down his cheeks. “I don’t fucking know.”

There’s a long pause, and then Ezra says, “I have to go. Clear my head.”

When he and Mateo are gone, Harry collapses on the couch and starts to cry, big, heaving sobs.

-*-*-

**Friday, September 27th, 2013**

The next week, Harry comes home from work to find all of Ezra and Mateo’s things gone, and a box of Harry and Rhea’s things from Ezra’s on the kitchen bench with Ezra’s key and an apology letter.

_I’m sorry, I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t come back._

Harry cries the entire night, and then quits his job the next day, sends a goodbye text to Nick and he packs as much as he can into the car.

He, Rhea and the kitten drive up to his mum’s, and she welcomes them with open arms.


	5. Part Five

**Friday, October 18th, 2013**

Harry spends the beginning of his second pregnancy much like he did the first; in a self-imposed lockdown, moping.

By the end of the third week, however, he goes stir crazy, and early in the morning, he packs himself and Rhea into his car, and drives back down to London, leaving a note, apologising to his mum.

He gets to Camden at eight in the morning and parks out in front of the florist’s. It’s already open, and Marcie’s out front, putting up the display.

“I wondered when you’d be back.” She says when she sees him climbing out of the car.

“You knew I’d be back?” He asks, pulling Rhea from the car seat in the back. She’s still asleep, and she doesn’t do much more than mumble when he moves her.

Marcie smiles softly. “You looked heartbroken when you told me you were quitting. Come on inside, I’ll make some tea.”

They leave the door to the back room open, so they can watch out for customers, as she makes them tea, and they sit down on the work bench.

“So what happened?”

The entire story comes tumbling out of Harry, from the day, he met Liam in Torquay to the day he left for Holmes Chapel. He tells her everything (though he doesn’t tell her he and Liam had sex on the office couch), and even though she’s shocked at the knowledge that Harry can get pregnant, and currently is, she takes it in stride.

“Well, what have you gotten yourself into, duck?”

Harry shakes his head. “I think God or the universe or something is punishing me. God, I must have been a fucking _awful_ person in my last life.”

“You’ve been dealt a shit card, hun, but you’ve done so well. You’ve raised an amazing little girl. You did one of the best floral arrangements I’ve seen from anyone, let alone a newbie.” Harry winces. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Harry shakes his head. “It’s fine, really.” He sighs. “Could I… I hope this isn’t being presumptuous, but I was wondering if I could have my job back?”

Marcie’s smile turns soft. “It never stopped being yours, darling, of course you can.”

He hugs her just as Rhea starts to wake up.

“I’ve got to get some breakfast in her. Can I start tomorrow?”

Marcie nods and smiles. “Eight o’clock, just like always.”

Harry takes Rhea to get breakfast and receives a frantic phone call from his mum just as they’re sitting down to eat. Rhea’s in a high chair borrowed from the café.

“Harry where are you?”

“I’m sorry for leaving without you, mum, I had some things to do in London.” He tells her.

His mum breathes in a sigh of relief. “I wondered when you’d go back down.”

“Did everyone know I’d come back but me?”

“London became your home when you met Nick and Marcie.” His mum says softly. “I know my babies like the back of my hand. All three of my babies. Soon to be four.”

Harry laughs. “Goodbye, Mum.”

“Goodbye, Harry. I’ll bring you Lucifer on the weekend.” His mum hangs up.

After breakfast, Harry gets to the BBC just in time to catch Nick after The Breakfast Show.

He looks _pissed_

“Where the _fuck_ have you been?” Nick hisses, pulling Harry into an empty alcove in the front foyer. “I’ve been worried fucking sick, Harry.”

“Nick, I’m really, really sorry. Something happened, and I swear I’ll tell you everything.”

“Sorry?” Nick sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. After a beat of silence, he lets his arm fall back to his side, sighing. “No note, car gone.” Harry knows he’s forgiven.

Harry flings the arm he isn’t holding Rhea with around Nick’s neck and hugs him tightly, whispering to him. “I’m so, so sorry, Nick, I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, pet, it’s alright,” Nick says softly, hugging Harry hard, rubbing his back. “C’mon, love, it’s alright.”

Harry doesn’t even realise he’s crying until Nick pulls away just enough to wipe his wet cheek.

“C’mon, let’s go have lunch, you can tell me what happened.”

He tells Nick everything at lunch in Brighton, and god bless him, he takes everything in stride just like Marcie did, and Harry’s so fucking grateful for the friends he has.

-*-*-

**Monday, October 28th, 2013**

Things go back to normal after that. Harry starts work again and his mum brings up the things he left in Holmes Chapel, along with some things he left when he moved to London

Two weeks later, on Monday, Marcie takes Harry to her OB/GYN in Fitzrovia. The doctor’s name is Heather White, and she’s in her mid-fifties, with light grey hair and light blue eyes. She’s had four male pregnancies in her thirty years as an OB/GYN (Three from the same man, one from another), and Harry loves Dr Jordan, but he likes knowing that she’s been through it before.

Her office is on the fourth and top floor of a chipped white-painted building on Conway Street, just a few streets from Regents Park. The floors below are taken by a dentist, an accountant and a tea shop on the bottom floor.

Marcie waits in the waiting room with Rhea, Isobel and Madeline, while Harry has his appointment.

“By the size, I’d say you’re about ten weeks along.”

Ten weeks… ten weeks was…

Shit.

He kind of hoped it would be Ezra’s.

“The due date’ll be about the 26th of May.” Dr White says, staring intently at the ultrasound display as she moves the transducer on his belly. “Would you like pictures?”

“Yes, please. Four?”

Dr White nods.

After Harry’s cleaned the gel off his belly, Dr White’s handed him the pictures, they make another appointment for late November.

Harry meets back up with Marcie and the kids, and they head downstairs to his car. Once Rhea and Isobel are in their car seats and Madeline’s belted in between them, Harry and Marcie stop near the boot before heading to their own seats.

“Well?” She asks, curious.

“It’s Liam’s.” He says, nodding solemnly. “I slept with Liam ten weeks ago, and Ezra and I forgot the condom nine weeks ago. I’m ten weeks along.”

“Are you going to tell Liam?” Marcie asks, leaning against the car.

“Yeah.” Harry nods again. “I just don’t know when he’ll be in London. His band finishes their tour in a week, but Nick says they’ll be in LA until Christmas, and then Liam will probably want to go home to Wolverhampton, so maybe January?”

“Do you know how you’re going to tell him?”

“Mum says she still has Karen, Liam’s mum’s phone number. They’ll be able to schedule a meeting or summat.” Then he says, “He’ll probably want a paternity test, you know? For both of them.”

Marcie nods. “If not him, then his legal team. And you’ll have to make it clear to him that you don’t want any money, you just want him to know his daughter.”

“Yeah, I know.” Harry sighs again. “C’mon, let’s go get dinner.”

-*-*-

**Wednesday, December 11th, 2013**

Two weeks from Christmas, Marcie, Nick and Harry takes the girls to Hyde Park’s Winter Wonderland. They’re in the market, after visiting Santa Clause where Harry got a picture of Rhea with Santa, one of her and himself, another with himself, Rhea and Nick and one of Rhea, Isobel and Madeline. 

Rhea’s completely mesmerised by the bright lights and sounds, and she keeps trying to unbuckle herself out of her pram so she can go look at everything, so he buys her a hot chocolate to keep her entertained.

He ends up spend more than he’d intended to on gifts and food, but he decides he doesn’t care all that much, because it makes him happy, makes Rhea happy.

By the time they stop for a late dinner at McDonald’s, they’re all laden with parcels, and the kids are exhausted, Rhea and Isobel nodding off in their prams, Madeline clinging sleepily to Nick’s back.

They talk about their Christmas plans and decide to go out on New Year’s together while Marcie’s babysitter looks after the kids. 

“It won’t be much fun,” Harry says, shoving fries into his mouth and handing Rhea another chicken nugget. “New Year’s without alcohol.”

“The dancing, that’s the fun part.” Marcie says. “If it makes you feel any better, I won’t drink either.”

“Me too.” Nick agrees. “I’d go without it for you.”

Harry chuckles. “I appreciate the thought, but it’s okay.”

“Nah, c’mon, we’ll be the only group on New Year’s not wasted. It’ll be fun, we can laugh at all the sorry bastards that’ll vomit all over the street.” Marcie says, grinning, bumping her shoulder into Harry’s.

“I can make you drink. If you want to go sober, that’s fine with me. Means I won’t have to carry you both to the car.” Harry jokes.

“That’s that, then. We’ll do New Year’s sober.” Nick says, then looks at Marcie intently. “And you and me, we’re getting him laid.”

“Ooh, me too!” She says, nodding vigorously. 

“And Nick, how long’s it been?” Harry laughs. Nick gets this half-cheeky-half-embarrassed look on his face. “Who is it?”

“Who’s who?” Marcie asks, mouth full of burger.

“Nick’s got his _I’ve-got-a-FWB_ face on.” Harry says, grinning brightly as Nick goes red. “Or is it an _I’ve-got-a-boyfriend_ face?”

“He’s…” Nick shrugs, then he goes redder, but this time he looks more guilty and less embarrassed. “He’s Liam’s bandmate, the little one, Louis. It was only four times, but…”

Harry finds he’s a lot less upset than he thought he’d be. Mostly, he’s amused. He grins. “When did it happen then?”

Nick shrugs. “It’s not a thing, I swear. It was on their last tour break. I saw him in the studio? He was interviewing with Scott. He invited me out for a drink, and I thought he was kidding. Twice in August and twice in November.”

“Invite him out on New Years. Get another one in.” Marcie laughs.

“I dunno.”

Harry grins. “C’mon Nick, I know you wanna.”

Nick shrugs again. “He might be busy.” And at Marcie and Harry’s expectant looks he says, “I’ll ask him.”

After dinner, Harry and Nick kiss Marcie, Isobel and Madeline goodbye, and Nick drives Harry and Rhea home.

Nick parks in Harry’s driveway, and before Harry gets out, he says, “If you like him, Louis, I’m cool with it, y’know. I can’t stop you from shagging someone ‘cause he’s the bandmate of my ex. That’s not cool. Do you like him?”

Nick sighs and shrugs. “I mean, I guess? It’s not… it’s not really about that, I think?”

Harry leans over and presses his forehead and nose to Nick’s. “Love you, Grim.”

Nick sighs and his eyes flutter closed. “Love you, too, pet.”

Harry presses a kiss to Nick’s cheek before getting out of the car and opening the back seat to reach in for Rhea. Nick helps him get his things inside before hugging Harry tightly when he leaves.

Harry decides to let Rhea sleep in his bed instead of her cot, and he curls around her and presses a kiss to her slack little mouth before closing his eyes.

-*-*-

**Tuesday, December 31st, 2013/Wednesday, January 1st, 2014**

Harry decides that not being able to drink doesn’t matter all that much when he’s having so much fun, dancing with Marcie and Nick to shitty pop music and drinking non-alcoholic cocktails that make his mouth buzz.

Nick’s friend Louis arrives two hours before midnight, and then it’s just Marcie and Harry, but they don’t really mind.

They’re dancing to a dubstep mix of _Roar_ by Katy Perry when Marcie’s asked to dance by a blonde man about Harry’s height, and then it’s just Harry, and even then he doesn’t mind.

He goes to the bar and orders another lemonade, texting the babysitter, asking after the girls.

_They’re all fine. Rhea and Isobel are asleep. Marcie said Madeline could stay up to watch the fireworks. She’s getting pretty sleepy, but I reckon she might make it._

A photo of Madeline in her Disney Princess pyjamas waving at the camera and grinning follows the text and Harry smiles softly.

As he drinks his lemonade, he watches Nick and Marcie in the crowd, on other sides of the dancefloor, both just barely visible, and smiles fondly.

He goes back onto the dancefloor after his drink, and he’s perfectly happy to dance by himself until a man with dark hair and a beard changes his mind.

He must be crazy, because he lets this guy, this guy he doesn’t even know the name of, lead him into the toilets and get his mouth on Harry, but god _dammit_ does it feel good.

Marcie finds him when he reappears, and they dance again, closer to Nick and Louis.

“Can I cut in?” A voice, god a familiar voice, asks in Harry’s ear, and he can do nothing more than nod and smile apologetically at Marcie.

He turns to Liam and leans over to speak in his ear. “What are you doing here?”

Liam gets his hands on Harry’s hips and says, “Louis told me you were here.”

“Louis? How did…?”

“He’s seen pictures of you.” He doesn’t elaborate. “So you’re friends with Nick?”

Harry huffs out a breath and pulls back to look at Liam. “Why’ve you come, Liam?”

The countdown to midnight starts in the background, but Harry and Liam are stuck staring each other down, so close, yet so far away.

On the last count til midnight, Liam gets his hand around the nape of Harry’s neck and kisses him, and Harry falls into it.

People are screaming around him, but it feels like white noise, lost to the feeling of Liam against him, the taste of his mouth.

They kiss long past midnight, through song after song after song that blur together, colour and sound and time.

Finally, they take a breather, and Liam says, “You hungry?”

Harry blinks at Liam and lets out a long breath, nodding.

He follows Liam out to coat check, and from there, they find a kebab stand on the street. They sit down on a patch of grass on the sidewalk to eat and talk.

Harry has multiple opportunities to tell Liam, then, but he doesn’t say one word, he can’t make _you have a daughter_ come out of his mouth.

They kiss again, slow and relaxed, and then Liam says, “When Louis said you were here, I knew I had to come. Come see you. Come home with me, Harry?”

“What?” Harry says, pulling away from Liam. “God fucking dammit, you timed this for a booty call!”

“What? Harry–”

“Goddammit, I’m so fucking stupid.” Harry pushes himself up onto his feet.

Liam follows him and grasps his hand. “Harry, fucking – stop would you? Calm down.”

Harry scowls at him. “Louis said I was here so you thought _you know what, I’m horny, Harry’s easy, I know he’ll fuck me because he’s been in love with me since he was sixteen and he’s the father of my daughters_.” Harry slaps a hand over his mouth.

“What did you just say?”

“Nothing. I have to go.” Harry squeaks, pulling his wrist from Liam’s now-lax hand. Before he’s taken a single step, though, Liam tugging him into an alley.

“Harry, what… what did you say?”

“Shit.” Harry swears, rubbing his free hand over his face. “I’m so fucking stupid.”

“Harry, are you… what are you saying?” Liam asks. In the dim orange of the streetlights, Liam’s furrowed eyebrows look like one big brow, and Harry would laugh if he didn’t think he was going to throw up.

“I… I’m not saying anything.” When Liam goes to protest, Harry holds his hand up to silence him. “Not right now. Just… follow me.”

The walk to Marcie’s apartment is short, and besides the few times Liam tries to speak, mostly uneventful. They ride the elevator up in silence, and when they get to Marcie’s door, Harry finds his keys and tells Liam to stay where he is before he lets himself inside.

Olivia, Marcie’s babysitter is half-asleep on the couch, and startles when he appears, blinking her eyes like a confused owl.

“You’re back early.” She says, sitting up. “Where’s Marcie?”

“She’s still out. Why don’t you head home, sweetheart, I can take the girls from here.”

Olivia nods and yawns.

“Do you want me to walk you home?” Harry asks, helping her stand up.

“I’m sure I could walk the ten metres home, alone, Harry.” She laughs, shaking her head. “But thank you.”

Somehow, on the way out, Olivia manages to completely miss Liam standing in the hallway, perhaps too tired to look, and Harry thanks god. He doesn’t know whether or not she’s a fan of Liam’s band, but she’s a fifteen-year-old girl, so there’s a pretty good chance.

He lets Liam in and leads him to the kitchen.

“Is this your place?” Liam asks, looking around, curious.

“No, it’s my friend’s. I live in Camden.” Harry sighs and goes to turn the kettle on. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

“I’d kind of like an explanation?” Liam replies.

“Alright.” Harry sighs. “Alright.” He’s about to spill the entire story, but it seems his baby has other ideas, because she begins to kick, and Harry’s hit with a brilliant idea. It’s better to show, rather than to tell.

He yanks Liam’s hand forward and presses it under his t-shirt, against his belly and waits for his reaction.

“Holy…” Liam begins, eyes going wide. “Holy shit, is… is that?”

“Yep.”

“How… I don’t understand. How is it even possible?”

Harry snorts. “Well, Liam, when a mummy and a daddy love each other very much–” At Liam’s frown, Harry sighs. “It’s a genetic abnormality. I was born with girl parts, a womb, that kind of thing.”

“I… I still don’t understand.”

Harry sighs and pulls away Liam’s hand, letting go of it. “I’m sixteen weeks pregnant, Liam.” He says, like he’s talking to Rhea, trying to get her to understand something. “Conception date is the 19th of August.”

“The 19th…” Liam wanders off, cogs turning behind his eyes. “The 19th was when… Harry, are you… are you saying it’s mine?”

Harry crosses his arms over his belly protectively. “Yes.”

Harry waits for the inevitable explosion, but it never comes.

“Harry, are you… are you sure? I’m…” Liam looks a little pale, and Harry thinks he might faint.

Harry takes his hand and leads him to the couch, sitting him down and going back to the kitchen to get him some water. “Are you okay?”

Liam takes the water. “I’m going to be a dad?”

Harry bites his bottom lip. “You… you are a dad?”

“What?” Liam says, eyes wide again.

“Just… just stay there for a second.” Harry turns on his heels and heads down the hallway to Madeline’s bedroom, where Rhea’s asleep in her travel cot.

Madeline’s awake, reading under her quilt, and she looks like a deer caught in the headlights when he pulls it off of her. “You should be asleep, miss.”

“But I’m not tired.” She whines.

“It’s time for bed.” Harry takes the book from her and puts it on her bedside table, then he takes her flashlight and tucks it into his back pocket, leans down to kiss her forehead and tucks her in. “Your mum will be home soon, and if you go to bed, I’ll make pancakes for breakfast.”

Madeline smiles sleepily and nods. “G’night, Uncle Harry.”

“Goodnight, Madeline.”

He walks across the room to Rhea’s cot and carefully pulls her out, with her blanket and Moon.

She curls into him and presses her face into his neck, and he carries her out into the lounge room.

Liam’s not where Harry left him, he’s standing in front of the TV unit, a photo frame in his hand. When Harry gets closer, he realises it’s the photo of Rhea, Madeline and Isobel with Santa at Hyde Park.

“Liam.” Harry says, waits for Liam to turn around. “This is Rhea.”

“Rhea?” Liam says, voice soft. “She’s… she’s yours?”

“She’s ours.”

“Really?”

Harry nods. “Do you… do you remember that day? When I… when I broke up with you? Told you I wasn’t going on the X-Factor?”

Liam winces, and he nods. “Yeah.”

“And when I was sick?”

Liam nods again, then understanding shines on his features. “You were pregnant?”

Harry nods. “Yeah.”

Liam stares at Rhea for a long time, photo frame still in his hand. “I’m a dad?”

Harry nods. “I’m… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I… well, to be honest, I was petrified.”

Liam doesn’t say anything for a long time, still staring at Rhea, but then he bites his lips and looks up at Harry. “I’m going to be honest, I’m angry you didn’t tell me, but not as angry as I probably should be.”

Harry nods.

“Can I… could I hold her?”

Harry nods, and he moves Rhea into Liam’s arms. She wakes up while he’s doing it, and blinks sleepily at Liam. Suddenly she’s frowning and she looks like she’s about to cry, so Harry goes behind Liam’s shoulder and smiles at her. “Hey, darling, it’s okay.”

“Daddy?” Rhea says, confused, and when it looks like she’ll actually cry, Harry takes her and she hides her face in his throat, arms curling around his neck.

“It’s okay, I’m sorry, baby, I should have left you in bed.” Harry presses his hand to the back of Rhea’s head and smiles apologetically at Liam before taking her back to her cot and tucking her in.

Back in the living area, he re-boils the kettle and asks Liam is he wants a cuppa.

“Yeah, thanks.”

Harry makes their tea, and they sit down on the couch. “How are you doing?” He asks Liam.

“I’m feeling a little overwhelmed, but…” Liam runs his thumb over his bottom lip. “I’m good.” He smiles softly. “Happy. God, I’m a dad. An actual dad.”

Harry chuckles. “Yeah, you are.”

“Tell me everything about her.”

So Harry does, he tells Liam everything, from the day she was born. He talks until Marcie comes home and falls into bed, and then he talks until the sun rises and the kids wake up.

“Do you wanna stay for breakfast?” Harry asks him softly, yawning.

Liam nods. “I’d love to.”

-*-*-

**Monday, January 6th, 2014**

While Liam says he’s sure he’s Rhea’s father, once he tells his management team about her, they ask for a paternity test, just like Harry thought they would.

Liam takes Harry and Rhea to a DNA lab in Newham, where a technician takes a mouth swab and a phial of blood. Rhea takes it better than Harry thought she would, even the needle, only a few tears and no screams, Harry promises her cupcakes, ice cream and hot chocolate at _Annabella’s_. 

Liam apologises at least ten times through the whole ordeal, and Harry pats his hand to try and soothe him.

On the way to _Annabella’s_ in Camden, Liam says, “I think we need to talk about whether or not I tell the media.”

Harry picks at a loose thread in his jeans and hums.

“It’s up to you. Because if I tell the media, I’ll have to tell the media about you.”

Harry blinks over at Liam. “And about you.”

“What do you mean?” Liam asks, frowning, looking over at Harry and then back at the road in front of him.

“You’d have to be out.”

“Oh.” Liam says, hands squeezing around the steering wheel. “I didn’t think about that.”

“Will your manager even let you come out?” Harry asks, crossing his ankles and staring at his boots.

“I don’t know. They can’t exactly make me keep you a secret.” Liam sighs. “They probably could, actually.”

“If you want to come out, just do it.”

“They could sue me if I do it and they don’t want me to.” Liam replies, sighing again, shrugging his shoulders. “If they let me come out, and tell the media about you and Rhea and the baby, they might make us tell the media we’re in a relationship.”

“We have to talk about that as well… but we’ll do it some other time.”

Liam nods. “Yeah, okay.”

They’re silent for the rest of the drive.

At _Annabella’s_ , Liam buys Rhea a banana cupcake and a hot chocolate, an apple and cinnamon cupcake and a cup of tea for Harry, and a latte and a mocha cupcake for himself. They sit in the back of the shop, Rhea in Harry’s lap.

She’s starting to figure out that Liam’s her dad like Harry is, like Harry’s mum and dad, just two men instead of a man and a woman, but she’s still shy, and Liam understands that.

Harry appreciates him hanging in when he didn’t have to. He could have left when Harry told him, but he didn’t.

-*-*-

**Friday, January 17th, 2014**

When Rhea’s DNA comes back a match to Liam, Harry gets to celebrate by hiring a lawyer (except Marcie’s sister does it pro bono, so not hiring) and attending a meeting with Liam’s lawyers and management. Harry’s made to explain _everything_ , and it makes him feel rather dirty. 

They agree to let Liam come out, and to let him tell the media about Harry and their children, but they’re not allowed to talk about the four years between Rhea’s conception, and they’re supposed to pretend that they were together the whole time and Liam hid it from everyone. Harry doesn’t know whether he’s mad or glad about that one. 

They plan Liam, Harry and Rhea’s ‘coming out’ for a month’s time, for One Direction’s BBC Radio 1 interview with Nick, but before then he supposed to post five (and only five, which is…) pictures of Rhea to Instagram and Twitter, and one of Harry the day before the interview.

They also talk about the second baby’s due date, and how it lines up with a break in tour in Dublin, but if she’s late or early, Liam’s allowed to miss up to two shows and no more.

The meeting runs for almost five hours, and by the end of it, Harry’s starving and a little bit grumpy, and all he wants to do is get back home to Rhea and shove his face with crisps.

They’re dismissed with the promise of a rough draft of Harry’s contract by January 30th.

Liam drives Harry home with the radio on low.

“Can I ask you a question?” Harry asks, rubbing his belly, staring down at it.

“Yeah.” Liam says, turning to Harry to flash him a brilliant smile before turning back to the road.

“The song… I mean _your song_ , _Rock Me_ , that wasn’t…”

Liam smiles even brighter and shrugs his shoulders. “I was seventeen and in love when I wrote it, all I could think about was, uhm…”

Harry barks out a laugh. “Liam Payne, did you really write a song about shagging me?”

“Maybe?”

Harry laughs harder. “Oh my god, I don’t even… Good lord, Liam.”

Liam laughs too. “There are a few more songs about you, but not all of them are so obvious. You’ve no idea how surprised I am that they actually let it on the album.” Liam’s cheeks are red and his whole body shakes with his chuckles. “My part in _Story of My Life_ was about you, _Summer Love_ , _Right Now_ , _Through the Dark_ , _Better than Words_ , god, the list is endless.”

Harry feels his cheeks go hot. “Sorry.”

Liam blinks over at him. “Why?”

“I’m sorry about everything. I really fucked up.”

“I don’t understand, how?”

“I kept your daughter from you for almost three years, Liam, how else could I have fucked up?”

Liam turns off the highway and parks the car on the side of the road, turning to Harry when the ignition’s off. “Harry, I told you I’m not angry about that.”

Harry crosses his arms over his chest and shrugs. “I would be.”

“No, you wouldn’t.” Liam chuckles. “You’re too nice to be mad at anyone.”

“That’s not true.” Harry pouts.

“It is. You’re like a little puppy, you love everyone.” Liam says, grinning.

“Liar, you’re the puppy!” Harry says before Liam’s leaning over and kissing him. Harry melts into it for only a couple seconds before he pulls away. “We can’t… we can’t do that, Liam.”

“Why not?” Liam asks, frowning.

“Just… let’s just give it a little time before we jump into it again, okay?” Harry says. “Things are about to get a little intense.”

Liam nods. “Alright. What do you want for dinner?” He asks as he turns the ignition back on and pulls back onto the highway.

“God, I’d kill for gumbo.”

“Gumbo? What’s gumbo?”

Harry grins. “I have so much to teach you, young grasshopper.”

-*-*-

**Monday, February 24th, 2014**

“I was thinking about taking you and Rhea to Disneyland Paris for her birthday if you’re willing.” Liam says as he and Harry drive to the BBC the day of One Direction’s interview. He sounds calm, but the grip he has on the dashboard and the set of his shoulders tell a different story.

Harry blinks over at him from the road and reaches over to squeeze his shoulder. “Would you have the time?”

Liam nods his head and lets his hands fall into his lap. “I made a weekend free, just in case you wanted to go. The eleventh to the fourteenth.”

“We’d love to go.” Harry says, putting his hand back on the steering wheel. “Thank you.”

Liam smiles softly and nods his head. “So who’s her favourite Disney character, she’ll need a costume.”

“I can get that.” Harry says, shaking his head. “In fact, she’s got like eight in her closet already.”

“C’mon, let me?” Liam whines, pouting out his bottom lip.

Harry laughs. “She likes Merida, Mulan, Elsa and Kida. She’s two, she doesn’t really have a favourite.”

“Merida’s the Scottish one, isn’t she? I mean, besides the colour, Rhea’s got the hair.” Liam says, grinning. “I’ll find something good, promise.”

Harry chuckles and pulls into the BBC parking lot, turning off the ignition. He and Liam get out of the car, and he goes to the back door for Rhea. 

“You go in, I’m going to get Nick a smoothie. D’you want one?”

Liam shakes his head. “No thank you.”

Harry walks to the café a few blocks down from the broadcasting house and orders a matcha pear smoothie for Nick, a caramel smoothie for himself and a banana and peanut butter smoothie for Rhea.

When he gets back to the studio, One Direction is already in with Nick, but a songs’ playing so Harry knocks on the window and holds the tray of drinks out for Nick to see.

“You’re fantastic, thank you.” Nick says when he comes out to get his drink. “Kale?”

“Matcha and pear.”

“Brilliant.” Nick replies, pressing a kiss to Harry’s cheek. “You gonna sit out here? Or go home?”

“We’ll stay out here. Lunch after?”

Nick nods. “How long til you have to get to work?”

“An hour after you finish.” Harry replies. “Now go back in before the song ends.”

When Nick’s gone, Harry takes a seat on the couch across from the window into the recording booth and gives Rhea her smoothie.

They talk about the tour first, but then finally, Nick says, “It seems two of my favourite people have taken over your Twitter and Instagram lately, Liam, would you like to talk about it?”

“Yeah, Rhea and Harry.” Liam says.

“And who’s Rhea and Harry?”

“Well, Harry’s your best friend and Rhea’s your niece, Nick.” Liam says, grinning.

“Funny lad.” Nick replies after a chuckle. “But who are they to you, Liam?”

“Well, Rhea’s my daughter and Harry’s my boyfriend.” Liam replies, a little pale as he says it. “Rhea’s dad.”

“Is this you coming out, Liam?”

“I guess it is.”

“Well, we’ll be getting you a membership to the gay club quick smart, then.” Nick jokes. “But I guess the bigger question is, if you’re Rhea’s dad, how is Harry Rhea’s dad?”

“Have you not had the birds and the bees talk, Nicholas?” Louis butts in, shit eating grin on his face. “Shall I tell you on live radio?”

Nick pokes his tongue out at Louis and says, “Cheeky.”

Harry’s a bit worried they’ll start snogging, except Liam says, “Well, you know how every now and then you’ll hear a rumour of a man getting pregnant? And usually, they turn out to be transgender? Sometimes not? But no one really talks about it?” Liam looks over at Harry, who smiles encouragingly, before he says, “It’s… difficult to explain, but it’s a genetic abnormality, uncommon, but not impossible. I probably need a doctorate or summat to explain. Harry’s told me he has a relative with the same mutation. ”

“It seems someone didn’t get the safe sex talk in health.” Nick jokes.

“I’m pretty sure I did, I just wasn’t paying attention.” Liam says with a laugh. “But that’s not all.”

“Ooh, more juicy news. Give us the goss, Liam.” Nick pauses. “Well, give our beautiful listeners the goss.”

“Harry’s pregnant again. Twenty-seven weeks. Another girl.”

“Is this why you’re coming out today?” Nick asks.

“Yeah, I thought the fans deserved to know.”

After that, they veer back into music, and soon the interview’s over and Liam and his bandmates are appearing in the room. Liam falls onto the couch next to Harry and reaches down to run his fingers through Rhea’s curls, hear head in Harry’s lap, asleep.

“I’m freaking out.” Liam says, softly, just for Harry.

Harry squeezes his knee.

-*-*-

**Friday, February 28th, 2014**

Harry admits that the backlash could have been worse, but Liam seems to take every nasty word to heart, and it hurts Harry to see.

Harry gets to meet Liam’s band properly, and they’re all very supportive and lovely, and they love Liam. 

The band’s management plans a very public dinner to show the public that Louis, Niall and Zayn are all being very supportive, and it’s at this swanky new restaurant in Camden that Harry, Nick and Marcie have been hanging out to try, so with the team’s permission, Harry invites Nick and Marcie.

“You’re only allowed to sit next to Louis if you promise to try not to wank him under the table.” Harry tells Nick as they’re driving to the restaurant.

“Hey, that was one time.” Nick pouts. “Besides, I don’t think I could get away with it, not with the amount of cameras they’ll no doubt have trained on us.”

“Otherwise you would have tried.” Marcie jokes from the backseat. Olivia’s looking after the three girls again, so it’s an adult’s night out, and Harry wishes for the fifth hundred time he could have a goddamned glass of wine. No way is he getting through this without alcohol.

“Yes.” Nick says, completely serious.

Harry parks the car at the back of the restaurant like he was told, and after a sharp knock on the door, they’re let in through the kitchen and into the restaurant, where Liam, Louis, Niall and Zayn are waiting, and…

“Wait, isn’t that what’s her name from that band? Wassit?” Harry asks Nick quietly, as they zigzag their way between tables, frowning.

“Perrie Edwards, Zayn’s fiancé.” Nick supplies.

“Thanks.” Harry replies before they reach the table. Harry and Nick greet them all, and then introduce Marcie, and then Marcie and Harry are introduced to Perrie. Harry takes the seat next to Liam, Marcie takes the seat next to him, and Nick takes the seat between Perrie and Louis.

It’s awkward for only a few moments before Perrie says, “God, I’ve got the biggest craving for Cajun, why couldn’t we have gone to BK.”

“Oh my god, have you had their gumbo, I think I just might marry it.” Harry blurts, blushing when the table bursts into laughter.

“Yes, and their ribs.” Perrie says, eyes bright, grin wide.

“Oh god, the Caramel Captain and the onion rings.” Harry says, he thinks might actually start drooling right now.

“The sweet potato fries, right?”

“Oh god, you need to stop talking about BK right now, or there’ll be pictures all over the internet of me salivating.”

“Are you free tomorrow?”

“Seriously?” Harry asks, eyes a little wide.

Perrie’s grin widens. “Yeah! It’ll be fantastic!”

Harry grins with her. “Yeah, alright.”

He feels Liam squeeze his knee under the table and Harry picks up the menu from in front of him. 

A phone’s shoved between the menu and his face, and if he had a drink in his mouth, he would have spit it all out.

It’s a photo of Rhea and Isobel, faces covered with bright red lipstick, and Madeline, too smug to not be the culprit.

“Oh my god.” Harry snorts, hand over his mouth, body wracked with chuckles. “Oh my god, no.”

“What’s happened?” Liam asks, frowning. Harry takes the phone from Marcie and shows it to him. “Is that lipstick?”

“What’s happened?” Nick asks from the other side of the table. Harry shows him and the rest of the table the photo. 

They all fall into fits of giggles.

-*-*-

**Friday, April 11th, 2014**

Rhea might only be (almost) three, but she figures out pretty quickly they’re not just going for a drive when they reach the Eurotunnel in Folkstone.

“Where we go?” She asks, frowning, staring out the window at the cars pulling onto the shuttle in front of them.

“We’re going to see Merida.”

She looks at him with wide eyes, not quite sure whether to believe him.

“And Mulan and Kida and Elsa.”

She frowns. “Don’t un’ers’and.”

Before Harry can say anything, Liam turns back to look at Rhea and says, “All the princes and princesses they live together in a special castle made of magic.”

Rhea’s eyes go even wider. “Really? And we go?”

“Yeah!” Harry says, smiling at Liam and reaching over to squeeze his knee.

“Wanna see Mulan, please. N’Elsa and Anna!”

She chatters on about all the people she wants to meet until she passes out half through the trip across the Channel.

They get to Disneyland late in the afternoon, and Harry almost has a heart attack when Liam points out where they’re staying.

“Oh my god, Liam, what is happening right now?”

Liam chuckles. “I thought you’d like it. Being famous does have its perks.” 

The Disneyland Paris Hotel looks like a fucking _castle_ , inside and out, and Harry’s kind of speechless.

They have a room called the Cinderella Suite, which, according to Liam is the second best room in the hotel, and now Harry’s really freaking out.

“Liam.” Harry says, almost scoldingly.

“Nope. No. Can’t hear you.” Liam says as they stand in the foyer of the hotel, in front of the check-in desk.

“ _Liam_.” Harry says again, a little more firm.

“You’ve no choice.”

After checking in, they go up to their room, a ridiculously lavish suite on the top floor, with a sitting room and two attached bedrooms, and a bathroom with a massive tub surrounded by mosaicked images of a castle and a forest, with lights about it that look like stars.

“Do I want to know how much you’re paying for three nights in this bloody place?” Harry asks as a bellboy brings in their bags.

“No.” Liam says, almost amused.

“Well, I’m going to wash the car smell off me. Are you okay with Rhea?”

Liam nods, and Harry realises this’ll be the first time he’s left Rhea and Liam alone for more than a minute.

He draws a bath (because when in Paris), and sinks into it, closing his eyes.

He must fall asleep, because suddenly he’s being woken up to a hand on his shoulder, the water cold.

“You hungry?” Liam asks from above him.

Harry nods and yawns. “Could you get me towel. Is Rhea awake?”

Liam goes to get a towel and says, “Yeah, she just woke up.”

Harry covers himself with the towel Liam hands him as he gets out of the bath. He almost slips on the tiles, but Liam catches him around the waist.

“You okay?” He asks, softly, face so, so close.

“Fine, yeah.” Harry replies, using Liam’s shoulder to steady himself before pulling away, heart beating wildly. “I’ve gotta go get dressed.”

-*-*-

**Monday, April 14th, 2014**

By the end of the three days in Disneyland, Harry has pictures of Rhea with just about every Disney character that exists, and there’s about eight billion pictures on the internet of him looking as fat as a fucking whale.

Back in London on the third night, he’s sitting at the kitchen counter with his laptop letting what people say get to him.

Liam’s putting Rhea to bed, room now covered in Disney toys, another eight princess costumes, as well as the velvet Merida dress a friend of Liam’s had _made_ for Rhea, and a _Brave_ themed charm bracelet that Rhea refuses to let Harry take off her wrist.

On Twitter, there’s an awful picture of Harry leaning over to pick Rhea up and his fucking arse looks like two massive balloons.

He slams his laptop shut and climbs off the stool to get some juice from the fridge. The baby wriggles in his belly and he scowls at the stove.

“You alright?” Liam asks, appearing from the hallway, running his fingers through his hair. “Trying to set the stove on fire?”

Harry blinks over at Liam and the frown falls off his face. “I’m fine. She asleep?”

“Yeah, convinced me to let her sleep with like eight toys, too. I’m surprised they fit in her cot.” Liam chuckles, leaning against the stove, facing Harry. “You okay, though?”

“Tired, that’s all.”

Liam frowns at Harry like he doesn’t quite believe him, and then says, “You’ve been looking on Twitter, haven’t you?”

“No.” Harry says, quite unconvincingly. “How did you know?”

“Cause I saw the stuff on there. Ignore it, yeah? It’s all bullshit.” Liam replies, shaking his head. “You look amazing.”

“Ha, funny.” Harry replies, drinking the rest of his juice and turning to the fridge to get some more. When he turns back, Liam’s rifling through his wallet, before finally pulling something out.

He holds it up, and it’s Harry’s most recent sonogram. “See this?”

Harry takes it and looks at it for a long time, before giving it back to Liam. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

Harry nods his head. “Yeah, okay.” 

He puts his juice down on the counter, and when he looks back up, Liam’s so close, so fucking close, and Harry wants to reach out and touch his face.

Harry was kind of expecting it, but it’s still a shock when Liam kisses him. He lets him do it for a while, before pulling back. “We still can’t do that.”

Liam smiles softly and says, “Okay.”

-*-*-

**Saturday, May 17th/Sunday, May 18th, 2014**

Harry goes into labour a month after Liam’s left for tour, and nine days before his due date, while he’s helping Marcie set up the shop to open it.

He has a contraction after a few hours of discomfort that Harry thought was just Braxton Hicks again, and swears.

“Are you okay?” Marcie asks, putting a bucket of rose bunches down on the shelf before hurrying to his side.

“Yeah, I’m fine, s’just a contraction.” He replies, shaking his head. “I’m fine.”

“You just… you’re ridiculous.” She laughs. “C’mon, let’s get you on the couch.”

“I’ve gotta call Liam, he’s in LA.” Harry says, reaching into his pocket for his phone, unlocking it and dialling Liam’s number as Marcie leads him to the office couch.

He answers on the fifth ring, and the first thing he says is, “It’s happening?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, I’ll be on the next plane down.” Liam hangs up.

Harry sits on the couch and dials his mum.

“Hey, darling.” She answers.

“How fast can you get up to London?” Harry asks.

“Three hours if I catch the train. Have you called Gemma yet? And Liam?” His mum asks.

“No and yes. You should call Gemma first so you can catch the train together.” Harry replies.

“Okay, I will. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Love you, darling.”

“Love you, too, mum.” Harry replies before she hangs up. He turns to Marcie. “I’m gonna drive home and I’ll call you when I’m closer. Are you okay here by yourself?”

Marcie smiles and nods. “I’ll be fine. Will you be alright by _yourself_?”

Harry nods. “I’ll text Nick and he’ll probably come over after work.”

Marcie helps him get Rhea into the car, and Harry makes it home without a single contraction, only to be wracked by one when he steps through the door.

“Daddy?” Rhea asks, blinking up at Harry with her big brown eyes full of concern. “You ‘kay?”

“Fine, baby. Why don’t you go watch television, daddy will be there in a second.”

She’s hesitant, but she nods and totters off to the lounge room.

When he’s okay again, he calls Nick.

“Harry Styles, everyone.” Nick answers. “You’re live on radio, Harold, so no naughty talk.”

“Nicholas.” Harry says, scolding. “It’s not the time for me to be on radio.”

“Why not?” And then there’s a pause. “Oh shit.” There’s another pause, and then Nick says, “Here’s Rita Ora’s new song, _I Will Never Let You Down_.” The song starts playing and finally, Nick says, “I finish in an hour and I’ll be at your place, yeah? What do you want for lunch?”

“Could you get curry from Sagar?” Harry asks, getting some juice from the fridge.

“Course. See you in a bit. Love you.”

“Love you, too, Nick.”

Harry pours juice into a glass for himself and into a sippy cup for Rhea, and takes them into the lounge room, where Rhea’s sitting in her beanbag watching the Disney Junior channel.

After Nick arrives with Harry’s curry, Harry gets a text from Liam that just says _boarding now_ , and one from his mum that says _Just got on._

The baby seems to wait for Liam’s arrival, because when he walks through the door at half nine, Harry’s contractions start to get closer together, and it’s time to call the midwife Harry’d hired.

He has a water birth like the last time, but it takes a lot fucking longer than Rhea’s birth, long into the night, into the next day.

Early morning light’s pouring through the lounge room curtains when the midwife, Cameron, announces that Harry’s crowning, and finally, _finally_ , with one last push, his daughter’s out of him, and screaming bloody murder.

Nick had taken Rhea back to his place for the night and Marcie had gone back to her girls, so it’s just Liam and Harry, and Harry’s mum and sister.

His daughter is given to him, bloody and pale, with the same dark hair and eyes Rhea had when she was born, and Harry falls in love with her.

Liam presses his forehead to Harry’s, his hand at the name of Harry’s neck, and says, “You did so, so well.”

Right then, they share something Harry never got the first time they did this, something soft and gentle that Harry can’t name and doesn’t want to break.

Liam feeds her first, sitting on the couch with her in his arms, Harry next to him in only a pair of briefs, and they decide to name her Dahlia Malina. Harry chooses Malina, the name of the Inuit sun goddess, to match Rhea’s middle name, and Liam chooses Dahlia.

Harry’s mother and sister, exhausted, catch the first train back to Holmes Chapel and Manchester, though Harry begs them to stay, and Liam and Harry fall into Harry’s bed with Dahlia between them, and sleep the entire day away, only waking up to feed and change her, and feed themselves.

Late in the afternoon, while Harry’s drowsy but not asleep, he feels Liam’s hand in his hair, and goes to tell him it feels nice, when he says, voice soft and so, so quiet, “I love you, Harry.”

Harry doesn’t know whether Liam knew he was awake or not, so he doesn’t say anything, just in case.


	6. Part Six

**Wednesday, May 21st, 2014**

Harry’s baby glow lasts exactly three days until Liam’s talking about registering Dahlia’s birth before he goes back on tour, and about her surname.

“We’re not married, Liam, I gave birth to her, she’ll take _my_ last name.” Harry says, making himself and Liam cups of tea, rather annoyed that he had to bring this up first thing in the morning.

“Harry, she’s my daughter, too,” Liam says, leaning against the counter, Dahlia in his arms, suckling on the teat of her bottle. “I didn’t get Rhea’s surname, so why can’t I have Dahlia’s?”

“It’s not a prize to be won, Liam.” Harry says, frowning at Liam, handing him his tea. “No, I’m sorry, she’ll have my last name. Are you going to fight me on this?”

“Yes.” Liam says.

“Are you going to fight me on this in court?” Harry replies, crossing his arms over his chest.

Liam’s eyes go wide. “No. Why would you ask me that?”

Harry shrugs.

“Harry… I’m not… I wouldn’t do that, I just,” Liam pauses, then takes a few steps forward and presses his forehead to Harry’s, his face in his hands. “I’d never take them away from you. You know that right?”

“If you wanted to, you could.” Harry says, looking down at his feet. “I know you wouldn’t.” He looks back at Liam and says, “We can hyphenate it. Styles-Payne.”

Liam smiles and presses a kiss to Harry’s forehead. “Perfect.”

Harry head-butts Liam softly and pulls away, grabbing his tea and taking it into the lounge room where Rhea’s sitting on the faux wool rug next to Dahlia’s bouncer, watching _Sofia the First_ on Disney Junior. He sits on the couch with his legs tucked under him and watches it with them. 

Liam follows him in a few minutes later and puts a silver-wrapped box-shaped present in Harry’s lap and says, “Happy birthday.”

“My birthday was three months ago.” Harry says, putting his tea on the coffee table.

“But we kinda forgot it, didn’t we?” Liam replies, shrugging his shoulders.

“What is it?”

“A dinosaur.” Liam jokes. “Just unwrap it and see.”

Under the wrapping is the box for a Nikon digital camera, a D5200 SLR, with two lenses and a 32 gigabyte SD card.

“I won’t be here for all the good bits, so I thought you could take some pictures for me.” Liam says. “So, I guess it’s a present for me, too.”

“I love it, thank you.” Harry presses a kiss to Liam’s cheek and then starts setting the camera up, putting the batteries in, fitting the lens on, pushing the SD card inside. He turns it on and it chirps happily, then puts it against his face, looking through the lens, and takes a photo of Liam with the lip of his mug almost to his mouth.

“Hey, I didn’t mean photos of me!” Liam laughs, but he poses for the next one, head tilted and lips ridiculously pouted. “Is that a good one? Got the money shot?” Harry gets another few of him laughing, head tilted back and eyes squinted.

He moves to the floor and takes some of Dahlia asleep in her bouncer, and Rhea, still watching telly, mouth a little parted, eyes locked on the screen in front of her.

“Hey, d’you have to announce Dahlia’s birth?” Harry asks Liam, looking up at him.

“Yeah, I’ll do it at some point.” Liam replies, taking a sip of his tea. “I could use a photo you take.”

Harry nods and takes a few more photos of Dahlia before putting the camera down on the coffee table and reaching into Dahlia’s bouncer to pull her out, carefully. He stands up just as carefully as he’d pulled Dahlia from the bouncer so she doesn’t wake up and hands her over to Liam. He picks up the camera again and takes a few photos from different angles.

He takes Dahlia again and hands Liam the camera. “Pick one? Or I can take a few more?”

Liam looks through the photos as Harry puts Dahlia back in her bouncer and picks up his tea again. “This one.” He says, showing Harry one of the photos of Dahlia in her bouncer. Afternoon light is streaming through the curtains, shining over Dahlia’s right cheek, and Harry has to admit, it’s pretty good.

“It’s perfect.”

-*-*-

**Monday, June 16th, 2014**

A few weeks after Liam leaves for tour, Harry’s making the girls bottles when there’s a knock on the door.

He gives Rhea her bottle and takes Dahlia with him to the front door, pulling it open to a woman Harry recognises from the meeting with Liam’s team. She’s in a smart skirt suit, and she’s holding five flat rectangle boxes in her arms.

“Harry, hi, I’m Katherine, Liam’s assistant, we met in January.” She says, smiling brightly, pushing her sunglasses from her eyes and up into her blonde hair. “May I come in?”

“Uhm… sure.” Harry replies, stepping aside to let her in. He leads her to the kitchen and says, “Would you like a cup of tea?”

“I’d love one.” Katherine replies, putting the boxes on the counter and taking a seat on a stool, making herself at home.

Harry turns the kettle on and puts the teat of a bottle of formula to Dahlia’s mouth, turning to say to Katherine, “To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”

She puts her hands on the top box in the pile on the counter and says, “These are gifts from different children’s clothing labels. There’s another five in the car.”

“Oh. They’re like endorsements.”

“You don’t have to use them, but if you do, if you or Liam could post pictures to Instagram or Twitter with the name of the label.”

The kettle boils and Harry looks at it, then at Katherine and back at Dahlia, and says, “Could you feed her a moment while I make our tea?” Katherine nods and Harry hands her over carefully. “How do you take your tea?”

“Two sugars, no milk, thank you.” She says softly. The way she holds and feeds Dahlia, Harry can tell she’s done it before.

“How old?”

“Huh?” Katherine asks, smiling down at Dahlia before looking up at Harry. “Oh, two, four, seven, nine and thirteen. Two nieces and three nephews.”

Harry makes their teas and puts Katherine’s in front of her just as Dahlia finishes her milk. He puts a towel over his shoulder and takes her back, burping her.

Katherine takes a sip of her tea and says, “They’re from labels all around the world.” She looks at the address on the top box. “This one’s from an LA company.” She looks at the second. “Seoul in South Korea, another from America, both of these are from France.”

“Could you open the top for me?” He asks.

Katherine takes her keys from her pocket and uses her car key to cut the tape on the top, pulling the lid open. There’s two dresses, two pairs of pants and two tops. One of each are size three to six months, the others are 4T.

“They’re for Dahlia _and_ Rhea?” Harry asks, flattening out a burnt orange grid patterned dress in Rhea’s size.

“Yeah, I thought they might be.” Katherine opens the next box, with clothes from South Korea. There are four dresses inside, all in Rhea’s size, and they’re utterly gorgeous.

He pulls out a crochet pale blue dress with white ruffles in the shoulders. “They’re beautiful.”

“I’m just going to get the other boxes.” Katherine says, disappearing down the hallway.

Harry looks at the other dresses in the box, a white dress with ruffled shoulders, a floral dress with long sleeves and a ruffled neck, and a chiffon dress with long sleeves, ruffled shoulders and a ribbon at the neck. God, they’re all gorgeous.

He puts Dahlia in her carrier on a chair behind him and uses a pair of scissors to open the third box from a company called _Rylee and Cru_. Inside are clothes just in Dahlia’s size, sweatpants, t-shirts, bloomers and rompers. In the next are six dresses, three in Dahlia’s size, three in Rhea’s, and the last box has sweatpants, t-shirts, bloomers and rompers in both Dahlia and Rhea’s sizes.

The next five boxes are filled with shoes, tights, socks, other accessories and handmade toys, from stores all over the world.

When Katherine’s gone, Harry checks the time in Copenhagen and then FaceTimes Liam.

“Your assistant just dropped by to give me free clothes.” Harry tells Liam, still in disbelief. “Like hundreds of pounds worth of free clothes, Liam.”

“Katherine told me labels were sending us stuff. Do you like any of it?”

“All of it.” Harry replies, taking Dahlia into the lounge room and putting her next to Rhea on the couch, propped up on a pillow, turning the camera towards them. “Say hello to Liam.”

“Hello, daddy.” Rhea says, waving at Liam on Harry’s phone screen.

“Daddy?” Liam says.

Harry turns the phone back to himself. “That just happened.”

“I didn’t just imagine that?” Liam says, eyes wide. “She just called me daddy?”

“She did.” 

Harry gives the phone to Rhea and lets her chatter on to him for a while, kneeling on the carpet in front of Dahlia, tickling her and making faces, trying to make her smile.

After a while, Harry takes his phone back and ends the call with Liam, going back to the clothes and accessories on the kitchen counter. He takes then upstairs and leaves them on his bed until he has the time to put it all away.

-*-*-

**Monday, July 14th, 2014**

Harry’s starts thinking about going back to work almost two months after Dahlia’s birth, sitting in bed after the girls have gone to sleep, Skyping Liam.

“If you go back to work we should put Rhea into child care.” Liam says, lighting a cigarette at his hotel window.

“S’a bad habit.” Harry tells him. “I agree. I’ve been thinking about it for a while.” He opens up Google Chrome and clicks into the last two bookmarks. “I picked two, and I thought you and I could decide between the two.”

“Really? Alright, yeah.” Liam says, smiling brightly. “What have you got?”

“They’re both Montessori Schools, one in Kentish Park and one in Belsize Park. They’re both small, 16 places in Belsize and twenty in Kentish.” Harry says, running his fingers through his hair. “Both teach additional languages, French for Belsize and Spanish in Kentish.”

“Which one do you like better?” Liam asks, taking another drag of his cigarette.

“Both.” Harry says, snorting. “That’s why I need your help.”

“What if I come down before Canada? And we can see them both together?”

“Would you have time? I thought you were going down to see Karen and Geoff.” Harry replies, sitting back against the headboard.

“I can come home earlier, on the twentieth, then spend a few days with you and the girls in London before heading home until the thirtieth-first.” Liam replies, flinging the butt of his cigarette out the window. “When are you going to visit them with me?”

“When I don’t think your mum will try to kill me.” Harry says, reaching over to the bedside table for his tea, taking a sip and putting it back down with a grimace when he realises it’s gone cold.

“She’s not angry at you at all, Harry.” Liam says, picking up the telephone receiver on the bedside table when it rings. “Hello? Okay, I’ll be down in five, thank you.”

“You gotta go?” Harry asks, running his fingers through his hair.

“Yeah. I’ll get Katherine to book me a flight for the twentieth. Make appointments for the nursery schools?”

“Yep, talk to you later.”

“Love you.” Liam says before he hangs up.

_Love you._

Harry is in way over his head.

He takes his cold cup of tea back downstairs and pours it into the sink, turning the kettle on, making a new one.

-*-*-

**Sunday, July 20th, 2014**

When Liam gets in around half two in the afternoon the following Sunday, Harry and Rhea are making brownies, the kitchen a mess of flour and sugar and egg shells.

“Was there a kitchen-related explosion?” Liam asks jokingly, lips turned up at the ends in amusement.

“There was a breakfast explosion, a lunch explosion and now a brownie explosion.” Harry says, leading Liam into the kitchen. “Rhea, look who’s home!”

“Daddy!” Rhea cries, climbing off the stool she’s standing on and jumping up into Liam’s arms. She’s got chocolate all over her face, and she’s grinning so brightly. “Hi, daddy.”

“Hey, sweetheart, I missed you.” Liam says into her hair, hugging her tight, pressing kisses to her face until she giggles. “What have you been making?”

“Brownies and…” She looks at Harry. “What they called?”

“Blondies. They’re like brownies but they’re made without chocolate.” Harry replies, putting two trays of brownie mix under two trays of blondie mix, almost finished.

Liam licks at the brownie mix on Rhea’s cheek and says, “Mm, that tastes good.”

“Silly, daddy.” Rhea giggles.

“Let’s go put you in the bath, messy girl.” Harry says, picking up Liam’s bags.

They go upstairs and Harry takes the bags to his room while Liam takes Rhea into the bathroom, sitting on the bed next to Dahlia’s crib where she’s still asleep and probably will be for another fifteen minutes before she’s awake and crying for a bottle. He finds a hair tie on his bedside table and puts his hair up before joining Liam and Rhea in the bathroom.

“Go have a shower, I’ll take care of Rhea.” Harry tells Liam, leaning against the doorway as Liam tugs off Rhea’s dress and pullup as the water spills into the tub. “Is the nappy clean?”

Liam looks at it. “Yep. How long’s she been in it for?”

“Three hours. I put her in it once she went to the toilet after lunch.” Harry replies. “I think she’s done with nappies. She’s not going in them anymore. I think after her bath I’ll put her in underwear.”

“You’re brilliant.” Liam tells Rhea, grinning, pressing a kiss to his forehead. He reaches over to turn the tap off and lifts her up to put her in the tub. “Daddy’s gonna go have a shower, okay?”

“Okay.” Rhea says, nodding her head, taking the mermaid Barbies Harry hands her. “Thank you, daddy.”

“You’re welcome.” Harry replies, kneeling down where Liam was when he gets up to take a shower in Harry’s ensuite.

Once Rhea’s clean and dressed, he leaves her in the lounge room with the television on and makes a bottle to take up to Dahlia.

Liam’s passed out on Harry’s bed, next to Dahlia in her crib, in only a towel, body wet and hair dripping over his neck.

“Liam, babe, wake up.” Harry says, shaking Liam’s shoulder. He blinks his eyes open and looks over at Harry. “Sit up.”

“Why?” Liam whines, pushing himself up into a sitting position anyway.

“You’re dripping all over my bed.” Harry goes to the top drawer of his tall boy and pulls out a clean pair of his underwear. He helps Liam stand and helps him step into the briefs, pulling the towel from his hips as he goes. “Sit down again.” He uses the towel to dry Liam’s hair as best he could and the lays Liam down under the covers. “You okay?”

“Yeah, s’just… sleep.” He says, closing his eyes and putting his hands under his face. “Thank you. Love you.”

He’s out after that, so Harry takes Dahlia out of her crib, still asleep, and downstairs, so she won’t wake Liam when she does wake up. He puts her in the bouncer next to Rhea and goes back to the kitchen to check on the blondies and the brownies in the oven, taking the blondies out and putting them on the counter to cool.

-*-*-

**Tuesday, July 22nd, 2014**

Harry runs his fingers through his sweaty fringe as the last slivers of dream shatter into a million pieces, chest heaving and come cooling on his belly. With a quick glance to the figure beside him, he sighs and climbs out of bed, padding over to the ensuite and locking himself inside leaning back against the door. He remembers the feel of Liam’s hands on his skin, his mouth, Liam’s cock in him, still feels it, like a phantom body, around him, on him, inside him.

Harry takes a deep breath and pushes himself away from the door, stripping his clothes off and throwing them in the hamper, turning on the shower and climbing in. He leans back against the wall so his body’s under the spray, and wipes the come from his stomach.

He washes himself and his hair before climbing out of the shower again, wrapping a towel around himself and heading back into the bedroom just in time for Dahlia’s early morning feed. He pulls on a clean pair of joggers and lifts Dahlia out of her crib, taking her downstairs for a bottle.

He sits in the lounge room with the telly on low, feeding Dahlia in the armchair, burping her and rocking her back to sleep.

He must fall asleep, because when he opens his eyes, the sun’s up and Liam’s in front of him, shaking his shoulder carefully.

“Hey, you okay?”

Harry nods and sits up a little more in his seat, staring down at Dahlia and then back at Liam. “Yeah. Just fell asleep. What time is it?”

“Half past seven.” Liam says, taking Dahlia from Harry’s arms. “Why were you down here?”

“I was feeding her. Must have fallen asleep. Is Rhea up?”

Liam nods. “She’s in the kitchen.”

Harry climbs off the armchair and goes into the kitchen to make breakfast, eggs and bacon.

-*-*-

After breakfast, once Harry and the girls are dressed, and Liam’s showered and dressed, they head out to visit the nursery schools.

Harry likes the first in Belsize Park, and Liam likes the second in Kentish Park, but Rhea doesn’t like either, so after a chat between them at lunch, Harry starts looking for more schools while Liam’s suggesting nannies.

“I can’t afford a nanny.” Harry replies, staring at his laptop screen, sitting at the kitchen counter as Liam makes tea and the girls nap upstairs.

“I’d pay for one.” Liam says, spooning sugar into two mugs.

“I told you when you found out about Rhea and Dahlia that I wouldn’t ask for any money.” Harry replies, clicking into the website of a nursery in Belgravia.

“You’re not asking, I’m offering.” Liam replies. “I know why you said it, Harry. You didn’t want me to think you were only asking for money.” Liam gets the milk from the fridge and pours it into the mugs after he’s taken out the tea bags. “I wanna give them things, y’know, give all of you things, whatever you need.”

“I don’t need anything.”

Liam hands Harry his tea. “You need a nanny. I know you’ve been doing your best, you’re practically a single parent, but let me help, okay? As much as I can.”

Harry rests his chin in his hand and sighs. “If you’d like to. I don’t mind, it’s up to you.” Lucifer brushes against his leg, mewling up a storm, so Harry picks him up and places him in his lap, scratching his neck. “I certainly wouldn’t say no.”

“You tried to.” Liam jokes, leaning over the countertop.

“Tried being the operative word.” Harry replies, taking a sip of his tea and then another before putting it back on the counter. “I’ll google nannies, then, should I?”

Liam nods and gives Harry the brightest smile. 

-*-*-

**Monday, July 28th, 2014**

Harry goes back to work two days after Liam heads up to Wolverhampton to see his family, leaving both Rhea and Dahlia in a nanny’s care, though originally he’d intended to take Dahlia with him. The nanny’s a woman in her late fifties named Camille who’s been working for almost thirty years. Rhea absolutely adored her from the moment they met, so Harry doesn’t even feel a little bad leaving her at home.

When Harry gets to the florist’s, Marcie’s out the front setting up the stalls, and he surprises her with a hug from behind.

“I’ve missed you!”

Marcie laughs and knocks her head with Harry’s, patting his hand. “I missed you, too.”

“I’m so glad to be back, you’ve no idea.” Harry says, pulling away from Marcie and kissing her cheek.

He helps her set up the displays before buying them coffee from the café down the street and taking them back to the shop.

Harry revels in the normalcy of getting back to work, loves every moment of it, and almost doesn’t want to leave when they close up.

He gets home to find Rhea, Dahlia and Camille’s day was just as fantastic as Harry’s. They visited the park and had a picnic, and Rhea and Camille made paintings of butterflies and flowers they saw while they were out. Harry definitely likes Camille.

Harry hangs the paintings on the fridge and puts the girls into bed before setting up Skype and calling Liam while he makes a cup of tea.

“Camille is fucking amazing, Liam, okay, she’s fantastic.” Harry says when Liam finally answers, pouring boiling water in his mug.

“Hello, Harry.”

Harry turns around and swears when he sees Liam’s mum sitting in the laptop screen, and not Liam. “Hi, Mrs Payne. How are you?”

“Fine, Harry.” She replies. “And you?”

“Uhm… not too bad?” He says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uhm, where’s Liam?”

“At a football game with his dad.” Liam’s mum replies, leaning back in her seat and crossing her arms over her chest. Harry feels a little threatened by the position. He turns the laptop so it faces the kitchen bench stools and sits in one with his tea. “Are the girls awake?”

Harry shakes his head. “Dahlia will be up in a bit, but Rhea will be out for another hour. Do you… do you want to see her?”

“Yes. Please.” 

Harry rubs the back of his neck again before climbing off the stool, then says, “I’ll be right back.”

He goes upstairs to his bedroom and reaches into the crib for Dahlia, pulling her out carefully and taking her back down. He takes a deep breath in the doorway of the kitchen before climbing back on the stool and moving Dahlia in his arms so her sleeping face is visible to Liam’s mum.

“This is Dahlia.” He says quietly, rearranging Dahlia’s shirt so her belly isn’t visible.

“How old is she now?”

“Ten weeks yesterday.” Harry replies, looking back up at Liam’s mum before he says, “I’m really sorry.”

“You bloody well should be.” She says, though she doesn’t sound as angry as she should be. “I understand why you did it though. I do understand, Harry, but I’m angry that you did it. I understand, but it doesn’t stop me from being angry.”

Harry nods solemnly.

“Look, the next time Liam’s down, I want you down with him, understand?”

“Yes, Mrs Payne.”

“Mum, who’re you talking to?” Harry hears Liam ask before his face appears in the corner of the screen. “Hell, mum.”

“It’s fine, Liam.” Harry says. “We were just talking. Your mum wanted to meet Dahlia.”

Dahlia picks that moment to wake up and cry for a bottle, so Harry makes her one, trying not to listen while Liam and his mum argue.

Over him.

He sits back on the kitchen stool, putting the teat of the bottle in Dahlia’s mouth and looking back at the laptop screen. It’s just Liam, now, his mum’s gone, and Harry lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.

“So tell me how it went today, with the nanny.” Liam says, lifting the straw of drink to his mouth.

“She’s fantastic.” Harry grins, standing back up from his stool and walking to the fridge, pulling one of the paintings from under a magnet and taking it back to show Liam. “She took them to the park and Rhea had an absolute ball painting in the afternoon.”

“Can you send that to me?” Liam asks, smiling happily.

“Yeah. She made four so I’ll send you two?” Harry replies, nodding his head.

“Yes please.” Liam nods his own head, taking another sip of his drink before putting it back down. “And how was work?”

“Fantastic. I love the girls, but I needed the break big time.” Harry replies, shrugging his shoulders. “I felt a bit bad leaving them with Camille, but she’s lovely.”

“I’m glad you like her.” Liam says, smiling gently. “Mum’s just made dinner, so I have to go, but I’ll text you tonight, okay?”

“Alright, I’ll talk to you later, Liam.”

Liam gives Harry one last smile before the line goes dead, and Harry takes Dahlia back up to bed before making dinner. 

-*-*-

**Friday, August 8th, 2014**

“Hey, do you think you and the girls will come to Chicago for my birthday?” Liam asks over Skype as Harry makes dinner, chicken tacos, while Rhea draws at the kitchen table and Dahlia sleeps in her bouncer near Harry’s feet. “Maybe stay a couple weeks?”

“Chicago? I dunno.” Harry replies, stirring chicken into a frypan with onions and garlic. “I only got back to work, I can’t take two more weeks off. It’s not fair on Marcie.”

“Only a week, then?”

Harry shrugs. “We’ll see. Will your mum and dad be there?”

“Yeah.” Liam says, nodding his head, writing something in the leather journal in his hands. Harry’d asked about it once, but Liam had just shrugged and hidden it so Harry couldn’t find it. “They’d like to meet the girls, this might be a good time?”

“I’ll think about it, Liam.” Harry says, sighing and turning to look at Liam. “If you keep asking, I’ll just say no.”

“Fine.” Liam says, shrugging his shoulders. “I’d just like to see you all.”

Harry sighs again and says, “We wanna see you, too, yeah?” He leans over the counter and looks at Liam, holding his chin in his hand. “I’ll think about it, okay, I promise. I miss you.”

Liam’s face softens into something warm and open and he says, “I miss you, too, Harry.”

“I have to finish making dinner. I’ll talk to you later.” Harry looks at Rhea over the laptop and says, “Say goodbye to daddy.”

“Bye, bye, daddy!” Rhea calls before Harry ends the call with Liam. 

He pulls up his messaging with Nick and types _I’m so in over my head_ before shutting his laptop and pushing it away so he can put two plates out and serve.

-*-*-

**Thursday, August 28th, 2014**

Harry gives in within two days and ends up catching a flight to Chicago with the girls at the end of August to spend a few days with Liam in Chicago. It’s an absolute nightmare. Rhea spends most of it fidgeting and complaining about not being able to get out of her seat, and Dahlia cries through most of it. He gets annoyed and pitying looks from other passengers, and by the time he’s finally off the plane, he thinks he might actually kill someone.

They’re picked up by a member of the band’s security, who introduces himself as Basil, and driven through a crazy busy city to a huge million story hotel. Harry’d expected girls, fans, at the front, Liam had said it was a particular problem, but there aren’t any at all, and Basil explains that Liam had moved to a different hotel to make it easier for Harry, the girls and his parents.

They park in the underground parking lot, and Basil takes Rhea while Harry carries Dahlia in her carrier and a bellboy takes their bags.

Liam has a suite on the top floor that probably costs more than Harry would like to think about and it’s empty, Liam had said he’d take his parents sightseeing before Harry got in so he could take a nap.

He gets bottles into the girls and puts them both in travel cots provided by the hotel for a nap before passing out on the bed in the master bedroom with his boots still on.

He’s woken when it’s dark, to a hand in his hair, a familiar cologne.

“Hey.” He says, smiling up at Liam. “What time is it?”

“Quarter past seven.” Liam replies. “We were going to go out for dinner at eight if you’d like to join?”

Harry nods and pushes himself up so he’s sitting, blinking around the room, searching for Dahlia and Rhea.

“They’re in the lounge room with my parents.” Liam answers, without Harry having to say anything at all. “Rhea is in love with my mum.”

“That’s good.” Harry says, smiling sleepily and yawning. “I need a shower before we go out, I smell awful. Baths for the girls, too.”

“I’ll bathe the girls in the second bathroom. Mum’ll probably want to help.” Liam says, curling his fingers in the hair at the nape of Harry’s neck, pressing their foreheads together. “Dress nice, okay?”

He’s gone seconds later, and Harry’s pulling himself out of bed and into the bathroom (which is frankly amazing. Harry has to remember to use the bath).

He showers quickly and gets dressed, nicking some of Liam’s expensive hair gel sitting on the bathroom counter so he doesn’t look like a long haired hobo before finally gathering up the courage to step into the lounge room where Liam, his parents and Dahlia and Rhea are waiting.

“Daddy ‘wake!” Rhea cries, the first to see him, climbing out of Liam’s mum’s lap to race over to him and jump up into his arms. He catches her, arms under her bum, and she wraps her arms around his neck. She’s wearing one of the dresses he’d been given for endorsement, the blue and white crocheted piece with ruffles at the shoulders, and her damp hair’s been braided. Harry suspects Liam’s mum, because Liam has absolutely no clue what to do with Rhea’s hair. “Daddy ‘sleep long time.”

“Daddy was in the shower, too. He smelt yucky.” Harry replies matter of factly, grinning when Rhea scrunches up her nose.

“Daddy smelly.”

“Exactly.”

He turns to Liam’s parents finally and says, softly, “Hi.”

“Hello, Harry.” Liam’s mum says. She looks just like Harry remembers, blonde and pretty and just like Liam. “It’s good to see you again.”

“You, too.”

They don’t say anything after that, locked in some sort of staring contest until Liam says, “Alright, I’m starving, let’s go eat.”

They eat in the Traville Kitchen and Bar on the second floor, at a four-seater near the window, Rhea in a high chair next to Harry, provided by the waiter, and Dahlia in her carrier on the window seat between Harry and Liam. It’s very awkward, and Harry curses American liquor laws because all he wants is a goddamned glass of wine. He thinks about bluffing his way through ordering one, but he’s twenty, and Liam’s parents know it.

After dinner, Liam’s mum and dad stay at the bar for a couple drinks while Harry and Liam take the girls upstairs for another bath and a before bed bottle, curling up on the couch in the lounge room with the city lit up like Christmas through the windows behind them, flicking through Pay-Per-View.

“I think tonight went pretty well.” Liam says, curled up with Dahlia in the crook of his arm, feet under Harry’s thigh.

“I think you’re mental.” Harry says, next to him with Rhea in his lap, half asleep, the bottle’s teat in her teeth as she blinks at the TV. “They hate me.”

“You’re just overreacting because you’ve not had enough sleep. If they hated you, you’d know it.” Liam says. “Besides, they can’t hate anyone. They’re just… unsure how to react to you right now.”

Harry shrugs. “Whatever.”

Liam curls his hand around Harry’s chin and pulls him forward, pressing their foreheads together. “They’ll remember how amazing you are, soon, okay? And then they’ll love you again.”

Harry tilts his head to the side, closes his eyes and sighs. “Yeah, alright.”

Liam presses his lips to Harry’s softly before pulling away and taking Dahlia to bed. Harry sits on the couch with Rhea a little longer before h3e turns the TV off and gets up, carrying her into the master bedroom and putting her in the right travel cot against the window, Liam leant over the one on the left. She’s out the minute her head hits the pillow, so he takes the bottle and leaves it on the bedside table, tucking her in and kissing her forehead.

He feels Liam watching him as he tugs off his jeans and shirt and pulls on joggers, and he feels a little better about what he’s about to do.

He brushes his teeth and sits in the middle of the bed while Liam goes to do his own, and when he comes back, and he’s at the edge of the bed, staring down at Harry in something close to confusion, Harry gets his hand around the back of his neck and pulls him down.

Their lips meet and a rush of familiarity and warmth runs through Harry’s body. God, he missed this so much.

Liam climbs over him and pushing him back so he’s laying horizontally on the bed, Liam on top of him. He licks into Harry’s mouth and Harry lets him, which starts a groan, deep in his chest.

They kiss for so long Harry’s mouth is numb and tingling, but he doesn’t let it go any farther than that, he can’t… he can’t let himself lose control. He’s hard and aching and all he wants is to remember the feel of Liam’s cock inside him, but he pushes Liam away eventually and rests their foreheads together, eyes closed.

Liam doesn’t need to be told. They get under the covers and curls around Harry’s back, and he’s hard, so fucking hard, but he doesn’t do anything more than hold Harry. He knows it for what it is. A promise. _Soon_.

God Harry hopes it’s fucking soon.

-*-*-

**Friday, August 29th, 2014**

Harry and Rhea sit in on the night’s concert while Liam’s stylist babysits Dahlia, and Rhea absolutely loves it, shouting excitedly every time Liam gets close and waves. They’re in a private box with Perrie (who squealed – actually squealed – when she met Rhea), her bandmate Jesy (who Harry would definitely shag if he was into girls even a little bit) and Liam’s parents.

After the concert (which Harry has to admit, was pretty bloody fantastic), a group of security guards lead them backstage to meet back up with the band. 

Rhea clambers out of Harry’s arms and into Liam’s when she sees him and takes his face in her hands, saying, “Pretty.”

“Pretty? What’s pretty?” Liam says, sweat at his brow, face red, grinning happily.

“Lights, song, ev’ry’fing.” She tells him, pressing a loud, smacking kiss to his lips. “Love you, daddy.”

Liam hugs her tightly, and says, “Love you, too, monkey.”

“Tell Dahlia, now.” Rhea says, clambering back out of Liam’s arms and onto her feet, taking Liam’s hand and tugging him in the opposite direction of where Dahlia actually is.

There’s an after-party-slash-birthday-party on the roof of the Intercontinental Chicago, where the rest of the band and crew are staying, complete with food and music and alcohol and a mud chocolate cake that Rhea smears all over her, Lux, the stylist’s daughter, and Brooklyn, another stylist’s daughter’s, faces. 

Rhea’s sugar high crashes at half ten, over two hours past her bedtime, and Liam’s parents take her and Dahlia back to the other hotel so Liam and Harry can stay at the party.

Harry gets drunk after they’re gone, shots and beer and mixed concoctions that taste awful and awesome at the same, dancing with Liam, and then Perrie, and then Jesy, then Niall and a dozen other people before he’s back with Liam, dancing to Kiesza’s _Hideaway_.

“Having fun?” Liam asks, smiling brightly as Harry takes his hands and moves them back and forth with his hips to the beat.

“So much. So, so much.” Harry says, nodding his head vigorously. “Are you?”

“With you here? Definitely.” Liam says with a grin. “Remember the boat party?”

“In Torquay? Yeah, that was fun.” Harry replies, nodding again, grinning just as wide as Liam. “The next day was better.”

Liam’s cheeks redden and he laughs. “Cheeky.”

Harry kiss his nose and pulls away to find another drink.

It’s almost two in the morning when the party disperses and Harry and Liam get a car back to the Langham. 

They strip and climb into bed, Liam around Harry’s back, singing in Harry’s ear until he giggles. 

“Stop, I’m trying to sleep.” Harry whispers, slapping the hand on his belly.

“ _I know you say, that you don’t like it complicated, that we should try to keep it simple, but love is never, ever simple_.”

“What are you singing?” Harry asks, turning his head to look back at Liam.

“ _Someday you’re gonna see the things that I see, you’re gonna want the air that I breathe, you’re gonna wish you never left me_.” Liam pokes his tongue out at Harry and then licks his cheek. “It’s for the new album.”

“It sounds good.” Harry replies, wiping the saliva off his cheek. “Did you write it?”

“Louis and I did.” Liam says, nodding.

“I like it. Got any more?”

“A whole album.” Liam jokes, grinning into Harry’s throat.

“Very funny.” Harry says, twisting around so his facing Liam, curling his hand around Liam’s face and pressing a kiss to his mouth. 

He pushes Liam onto his back and lies on top of him and they kiss, licking into each other’s mouths, biting each other’s lips. Harry gets so hard he can’t think, grinding his crotch into Liam’s belly desperately.

“Harry, Harry, god.” Liam groans, grasping Harry’s arse in his hands, grinding their hips together, panting into Harry’s mouth. “God, I missed this so much.”

They grind together, moaning into each other’s mouths, until they both come. Harry rolls over and collapses beside Liam, panting, threading his fingers through Liam’s.

Liam lifts Harry’s hand to his mouth and kisses it before curling around his back, kissing the curve of his neck.

“I love you, Harry.”

Harry sighs softly and squeezes Liam’s hand.

“I get it.” Liam says softly, kissing his shoulder. “I get it.”

-*-*-

**Tuesday, September 23rd, 2014**

Back in London, two weeks after their trip to the states, Harry’s sitting in Nick’s kitchen after work, emailing photos of the girls to Liam while Marcie cooks and Nick entertains the kids in the lounge room when there’s a loud thud and a sickening crack, followed by a scream.

Harry and Marcie stare at each other for a second before they rush into the lounge room. Rhea’s sitting on the floor by the coffee table crying, blood gushing from a wound at her hairline.

“Oh my god, sweetheart, what happened?” Harry falls to his knees next to Rhea and picks her up, holding her against him while she cries. 

“Harry, here.” Nick hands him a towel and Harry puts it against Harry’s forehead. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine, we just gotta get her to the hospital.” Harry says, standing up with Rhea in his arms. “Nick, can you drive me? And Marcie, can you watch Dahlia?”

Nick nods and finds his keys, and in the car, Harry straps himself and Rhea into the passenger seat. Rhea cries all the way to the Great Ormond Street Hospital while Harry tries to stop the flow of blood, the blue towel gone brown with it. The emergency room is busy, and the wait time is over half an hour, so Harry puts up a fuss, yelling about the massive amount of blood on the towel until a doctor leads him away just to shut him up.

“Head wounds bleed quite a bit due to the amount of blood vessels so close to the skin.” The doctor, Marsden, explains as he takes the towel from Rhea’s head. She’s still bleeding, but a lot less than before, dripping down her forehead slowly. “See, it’s only a little cut. Might need a few stitches though.” 

He injects an anaesthetic in her forehead after he’s cleaned the blood and wiped her tears. She’s calm while he stitches her up, a complete contradiction to her earlier reaction.

Harry’s given a prescription for painkillers and they’re sent home.

Rhea’s drowsy when they get back to Nick’s, but Harry reckons it’s just from all the crying and screaming. She sits in Harry’s lap while they eat dinner, clingy, and falls asleep before she’s even finished, which is when Liam calls.

“Harry, what happened, is Rhea alright?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“There’s pictures of you and Rhea and Nick at the hospital with you holding a bloody towel to her head all over the internet.” Liam says, voice a little high pitched, worried.

“Someone took pictures of us at the hospital?” Harry asks frowning.

“Is Rhea alright, Harry?”

“She’s fine. She knocked her head on the coffee table, had to get a few stitches, but she’s okay, Liam. She’s okay.”

“Thank fuck.” Liam says, letting out a breath. “Jesus Christ, I freaked out when Zayn showed me those pictures.”

“She’s okay, Liam, I promise. She’s clingy as fuck right now, sleeping in my lap, but she’s okay.” Harry runs his fingers through Rhea’s hair and holds her closer. “It looked worse than it actually was.”

“I’m so glad she’s okay, I thought my heart was gonna stop when I saw those pictures.” Liam’s silent for a moment and then he says. “I have to go, Harry, I’ve got an interview in ten minutes. Just give the girls a kiss for me, okay. I love you.”

“We love you, too.”

-*-*-

**Wednesday, September 24th, 2014**

Holding onto a baby carrier, a tray of smoothies and iced coffee and trying to keep an eye on a three-year-old with a sugar high is not as easy as Harry had thought when he decided he didn’t need the pram for a visit to the BBC on his day off. Boy was he wrong. He has no idea how she has so much energy after the night she had.

Rhea stands calmly in the elevator the whole way up, but as soon as the doors open, she bolts out into the hallway, towards where she knows Nick’s studio is.

“Goddammit, Rhea!” He calls, moving as fast as he can without waking up Dahlia up and spilling the drinks everywhere. 

Nick catches Rhea at the end of the hallway, coming out of the toilet, and pulls her up into his arms. “Hi, Miss Sweetface.”

“Nicky!” Rhea says, wrapping her arms around Nick’s neck and hugging him tightly. “Miss you.”

“Missed you, too, darling.” Nick says when Harry reaches them, pressing a kiss to Rhea’s cheek. “Hey, Harry.”

“Hey, I brought you a smoothie.” Harry replies, holding the drinks tray out to Nick.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” Nick says. “I’ve gotta go back into the studio, but I’ll be done soon, and then we can have lunch.” He takes his drink from the tray and presses a kiss to Nick’s cheek, dropping Rhea back onto her feet and heading back into the studio.

Harry takes a seat on the couch in front of the window into the studio, sits Rhea next to him and puts Dahlia’s carrier by his feet, the nappy bag next to it, handing Rhea her strawberry smoothie and taking his iced coffee.

Rhea sits still long enough to drink most of her smoothie and spill the rest on her dress, but then she’s running around again, much to the staff’s amusement. When Nick’s show finishes, he catches Rhea when she tries for the door into the studio he’s standing in.

“Where are you going, Miss Sweetface?” Nick says, laughing, lifting her up onto his hip. “What did you do to your dress?”

“Smoovie.” Rhea answers, matter-of-factly. Then she turns to Harry and says, “Another?”

“Maybe at lunch.” Harry tells her. “C’mon.”

Downstairs, they’re swarmed by people, and Harry doesn’t even realise they’re paparazzi until someone’s yelling, close to his ear, _Are you and Nick having an affair?_

“What? No.” Harry replies, frowning, looking for the owner of the voice.

Another voice says, Are you abusing your kids? somewhere to Harry’s right, and Harry scowls in the direction. “Why the fuck would you say that?”

“Harry, ignore them.” Nick says, Rhea’s head tucked into his neck, holding his jacket to cover her face from the cameras. “Just pretend they aren’t there.”

They make it through the crowd, through the awful insults, and they get the girls into the car in record time, pulling away while the paparazzi race after then.

“What the fuck?” Harry says under his breath, looking in the rear view mirror at the crazy fucker who’s running and taking pictures at the same time. When he’s gone, Harry breathes a sigh of relief and says, “What the fuck just happened?”

Nick just lifts his arms in the air in a full-bodied shrug, sighing.

Harry looks into the rearview mirror again, this time at the girls, to make sure they’re okay. He can’t see Dahlia, but she’s not crying, which is a good sign, and Rhea seems okay, if a bit wide-eyed. He says to Nick, “I’m never leaving the house ever again. That was awful. What if they’d hurt one of the girls?”

“Harry, they’re fine.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Well, I know that.” The car’s filled with ringing, and Harry look’s at the car’s display for the caller. Liam. “I was just accosted by paparazzi.” Is the first thing he says.

“Really? Are you okay? Are the girls?”

“Harry’s exaggerating, ignore him.” Nick says. Harry punches his shoulder softly.

“Hi, Nick.”

“Hello, popstar. How are you on this fine September morning?”

“Not too shabby.” Liam replies. “Was just calling to see how Rhea’s doing today?”

“Not too bad. She’s fricking nuts, though, I gave her Froot Loops this morning for breakfast because I’m crazy.”

Liam laughs. “So, I was also wondering if we could have Christmas at my parent’s house.”

“Yeah, alright.”

“With Anne and Gemma, too.” Liam says. “I’ve gotta go, but I’ll call you, okay? Kiss the girls for me. Louis says hi to Nick.”

The line goes dead and Harry wiggles his eyebrows at Nick who laughs, before turning his eyes back to the road, and driving them to Konaki for lunch.

-*-*-

**Friday, October 3rd, 2014**

The Friday before Liam’s return to London, Harry takes the girls to his mum’s for the weekend, driving up after work. He gets there just in time for dinner, parking in the driveway behind his mum’s car. 

The house smells like roast when he gets inside, potatoes and pork and Yorkshire puddings, and Harry finds his mum in the kitchen cooking broccoli while Gemma sits on the table scrolling through her phone.

“Aunty!” Rhea cries before climbing onto a chair and up into Gemma’s lap. Harry puts Dahlia’s carrier onto the counter and hugs his mum, kissing her cheek.

“Smells awesome. How long til dinner?” Harry asks, kissing Gemma, too, while his mum pulls Dahlia from her carrier. 

“Thirty minutes.” His mum replies, holding Dahlia against her chest and covering the peas and corn with plastic wrap, putting it in the microwave to cook.

While his mum and Gemma have the girls, he goes back outside to get the bags and the travel cot and takes them upstairs to his old bedroom. He goes back down and gets the duffle bag with nappies, wipes, formula and bottles, taking it into the kitchen, dropping off the bottles and formula, taking the nappies and wipes upstairs.

His mum’s serving when he introduces the idea of Christmas at Liam’s parents’ to her and Gemma.

“Sounds like a great idea.” His mum replies, nodding her head as she cuts Rhea’s food into little pieces.

“Sounds like Harry’s death sentence.” Gemma jokes, taking a piece of crackling before getting slapped on the hand by their mum.

“Don’t be so mean, Gemma. And you know I hate it when you do that, wait for your plate.” Harry’s mum puts Rhea’s plate on the high chair table in front of her and gives her a spoon.

“’ank you.” Rhea’s says before she’s splattering gravy all over herself trying to get the food in her mouth.

They sit with their own plates at the dinner table, Dahlia’s carrier on the seat next to Harry.

“So is it on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day?” Gemma asks. “And are we expected to bring presents because I met them once, like four years ago.”

“Gemma.” Their mum hisses.

“Christmas day, and she has a point mum. I suppose we should give them something, yeah?” Harry says, using Rhea’s bib to wipe the gravy from her chin and cheek. “You could make one of those baskets, the one you gave to Uncle George last year, he liked that.”

“Yeah, alright, I’ll look into it.” She replies, nodding her head. “And what about you, what do you want for Christmas?”

“Fuck knows.” He says honestly.

“Language. Nick’s teaching you bad manners.”

“Probably.”

After dinner, Harry takes Rhea up for a bath while his mum feeds Dahlia her bedtime bottle. Once they’re both in bed, Rhea on Harry’s bed and Dahlia in the travel cot, he takes his laptop outside and sits on the swing seat to Skype call Liam.

“Mum says she’s on board with a joint Christmas.” He tells Liam when he answers, except it isn’t Liam, it’s Louis. “Hey, Louis, where’s Liam?”

“Dunno. He let me borrow his laptop a couple hours ago when mine crashed. You tried calling him?”

“Nah, we usually Skype.”

There’s a knock on Louis’s door and his raises his eyebrow, as if to say, _maybe that’s him?_

It is, in fact, and he dives onto Louis’s bed, out of breath and grinning.

“Remember that bracelet Rhea got from Disneyland? And how upset she was when it broke?” Liam pulls something out of his hoodie pocket, a little jewellery box that holds a charm bracelet that looks almost the same as Rhea’s old one, except this one’s silver and not cheap metal. “I’ve been looking for all the right charms for months. There’s one with a bear and an arrow, a bow, something that kinda looks like a Willow-o’-the-Wisp, a tiara and a couple other things. I just finished it. Took me ages to find the bear.”

“She’ll love it, Liam.” Harry grins, drawn in by Liam’s enthusiasm. “By the way, mum and Gemma have agreed to Christmas.”

“That’s great, I’ll tell mum!” Liam says.

“How much sugar have you had today, you sound like Rhea on a sugar high.”

Liam laughs. “I’m just excited, Harry, let me be excited. I get to be home soon, for a month. Just me, you and the girls. I miss you.”

“Miss you, too, you lunatic.”

“I’ll be home in Three days. Three days, okay?”

“Yes, Liam.” Harry says, laughing.

“Give the girls kisses for me, okay? I love you.” He hangs up the call and Harry shakes his head a bit, in amusement, before shutting his laptop and taking it back inside.

-*-*-

**Wednesday, October 8th, 2014**

Liam slides into Harry’s bed late Monday night, maybe early Tuesday morning. He smells like he’s just had a shower, though Harry doesn’t remember hearing the water running, and he curls himself around Harry’s back, reaching over to running his fingers down Dahlia’s cheek as she sleeps.

“Hey.” Harry greets, linking his fingers with Liam’s when he rests them on Harry’s stomach.

“Hey, missed you.” Liam says softly, fitting his face in Harry’s neck, pressing a few soft kisses to his throat.

“Missed you, too.” Harry replies, opening his throat up for more attention. “Rhea tried to stay up for you. Ended up passing out hanging off the couch. You said you’d be here at nine?”

“Flights got delayed for a bit.” Liam answers, voice vibrating against Harry’s skin, and Harry shivers. “But I’m here now.”

Harry can feel that Liam’s hard, thick cock pressed against his arse, but he decides to ignore it in favour of the kisses Liam’s still pressing against his skin. Kisses down his throat and high up on his neck, over his shoulder, at the nape of his neck and at the first knob of his spine.

Harry’s not expecting it when Liam takes the flesh of his mouth between his teeth and sucks, and he can’t stop the moan he lets escape.

“Shh.” Liam says, untangling his fingers from Harry’s and putting his hand over Harry’s mouth. “We don’t want to wake up Dahlia.” He fits his other arm under Harry’s neck and takes his hand off Harry’s mouth, sliding it down Harry’s chest, stopping at his belly. “Can I?”

Harry nods, and Liam slides his hand under Harry’s joggers, fitting it around Harry’s cock. Harry moans again and Liam puts his hand over Harry’s mouth again.

“Shh.” Liam says again, running his thumb over the wet tip of Harry’s cock. Harry sucks Liam’s fingers into his mouth and moans around them, as quiet as he can, while Liam jerks him off, grinding against his arse.

Harry’s eyes flutter closed when Liam squeezes his hand around him, and when he opens them again, Liam’s gone, asleep on the other side of the bed, snoring, and Harry’s hard and sweating.

“Shit.”

The sun’s rising through the curtains, and Harry pulls himself out of bed and takes himself to the ensuite, turning the shower on and stripping before climbing in. He presses his forehead against the cold tiles and fits his hand around his cock, getting himself off like that, the spray drowning out his moans and the hitches of his breath.

Once he’s clean, he turns the shower off and climbs out, wrapping a towel around his hips. Dahlia’s awake, and she looks like she’s about to start crying, so Harry picks her up and takes her downstairs to make a bottle. He feeds her back upstairs, sitting up against the headboard with Dahlia in the crook of his arm, suckling on the bottle’s teat.

Liam wakes up when she’s almost done, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “Hey. You’re wet.”

“Had a shower.” Harry replies, putting the empty bottle on the bedside table and turning Dahlia around so she’s against his shoulder, patting her back. “When did you come in?”

“One, I think.” Liam replies, running his fingers through Dahlia’s hair, pressing a kiss to Harry’s shoulder.

When Dahlia’s back to sleep, Harry sets about getting ready for work, cheeks red as Liam watches him.

“Can I ask you a question?” Liam asks as Harry tugs on his jeans, buttoning them up.

“Yeah.” Harry replies, searching through the closet for a t-shirt.

“Would you go out on a date with me? Just us?”

Harry turns to look at him, white t-shirt clutched in his hands. “What? Why?”

Liam rolls his eyes, laughing. “Because you said we could talk about it – about us – after Dahlia was born, but we never did. So… Maybe we can do it at dinner?”

Harry looks down at the t-shirt in his hands and then back up at Liam and says, “Uhm, yeah, alright.”

Liam grins and climbs off the bed, sliding up close to Harry and pressing a soft kiss to his mouth, hand cupping his cheek. “Great. Can Camille watch the girls tonight?”

“I’ll call her.” Harry replies softly, pressing his own kiss to Liam’s mouth.

“I love you.”

Harry presses his forehead to Liam’s and says, “I know.”

Liam’s smile is soft, and maybe a little sad before he pulls away from Harry.

Harry gets breakfast on the way to work, getting a breakfast muffin from the McDonalds drive through, calling Camille while he does it. She agrees, and Harry texts Liam to let him know.

When he gets to work, just as Marcie does, the first thing he says, leaning against the window while she unlocks the door, is, “Liam asked me out on a date.”

She gives him raised eyebrows. “Really? What did you say?”

“Yes, of course.” Harry says with a near-hysterical laugh. “Like I’d ever say no to him. He could tell me to burn down the Sistine Chapel and I’d probably do it. How awful is that?”

Marcie laughs and presses her hand to Harry’s cheek. “Not really, when you think about how long you’ve been in love with him for.”

She lets them in and they set up for the day. It’s a busy day, and by the end of it, when they’re packing up, Harry’s almost forgotten about the date. When he finds his phone, with a message on it from Liam, it all comes rushing back to him; _got something down for 6_.

Harry gets home just after five, and Liam gets home just after that with the girls.

“Remind me to never try to get two car seats in the back of a Lamborghini again.” Liam says, lifting Dahlia’s carrier onto the counter while Rhea bolts for the toilet.

“Lamborghini?” Harry asks, voice a little high pitched.

“Yeah, so, my assistant calls, you remember her, Katherine? Well, apparently I’ve got tickets to the Opening Gala of the London Film Festival.” He lifts a garment bag onto the counter next to Dahlia and Harry raises an eyebrow at him until he says, “Want to go with me?”

“I dunno… What’s in the bag?” Harry asks curiously.

“An outfit. Have a look.”

Harry goes around the counter and stands next to Liam, looking at him again before he unzips the bag. Inside are a coat, a black shirt with white hearts, and a pair of black skinny jeans. They’re all from – Jesus fucking Christ. “Saint Laurent?”

“Rhea helped me pick the shirt out.” Liam says, grinning proudly.

“Liam.”

“What?” Liam raises an eyebrow at Harry. “I know what you said, but this is a special occasion, yeah?”

“You’re not gonna take no for an answer, are you?”

“Nope.” Liam replies, shaking his head. “There’s also a shoe box in the car, but I couldn’t carry it in.”

They get dressed, and Liam helps Harry gel his hair before doing his own. They’re done when the doorbell rings to announce Camille’s arrival.

“You look wonderful!” She says when Harry answers the door. “Like a million dollars.”

“I’m practically wearing a million dollars.” Harry says, almost petulantly. “Thank you for coming in on short notice.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Was just going to knit at home.” Camille says. “Has Rhea eaten dinner?”

“No, but there’s leftover shepherd’s pie in the fridge, so just heat that up.” Harry answers.

Soon, Harry and Liam are out the door, climbing into Liam’s _Lamborghini_ , on their way to The Odeon.

Harry’s palms are sweating and he kind of wants to tell Liam to turn around and head home, knows he will if Harry asks him.

“You okay?” Liam asks, looking over to Harry as he reaches the theatre, covered in people and flashing cameras.

Harry nods, wiping his hands on his jeans.

The car stops at the head of the red carpet, and Liam gets out, handing his keys to an attendant before going to Harry’s side, opening the car door and holding his hand out for Harry. Harry takes a deep breath before he takes the hand and climbs out of the car, shutting the door behind him.

“The movie’s _The Intimidation Game_ , we’ll take a couple photos and then we’ll head inside, okay?” Liam whispers into Harry’s ear, hand at the base of Harry’s spine. Harry nods, and they start down the carpet towards the theatre.

The movie’s pretty fantastic, and Harry manages to stay calm when Liam introduces him to someone who introduces them to Benedict Cumberbatch and Keira Knightly, which almost makes his entire year, followed closely behind Dahlia’s birth and the Disneyland trip. Harry’s drunk on champagne and high on life, and he doesn’t care when he kisses Liam in full view of cameras.

-*-*-

**Thursday, December 25th, 2014**

Christmas dinner is a lot less awkward than Harry thought it would be. His mum and Liam’s mum are back to being best friends, and it makes him glad.

They watch a movie together after dinner, _It’s A Wonderful Life_ , in the lounge room, Gemma and Harry’s mum on one couch, Liam’s parents on another, Liam in an armchair and Harry on the floor between Liam’s legs with Rhea sitting between his and Dahlia on her tummy next to his thigh. 

Liam’s running his fingers through Harry’s hair, scratching his nails against Harry’s scalp. Harry thinks he might fall asleep if Liam keeps doing it.

Harry’s mum and sister go home after the movie finishes, and Liam’s parent’s go up to bed, leaving Liam, Harry and the girls in the lounge room. Harry makes the girls a bottle each and Liam feeds Dahlia while Rhea feeds herself, half asleep in Harry’s lap. After they’re in bed, too, it’s just Liam and Harry in the lounge room, curled up on the couch watching the telly turned down low.

Harry’s got his cold toes tucked under Liam’s thigh, and Liam keeps complaining about it, trying to push them away. “Stop that.”

“But my toes are cold.”

“Exactly.” Liam says, rolling his eyes as he tries to push Harry’s foot away again. “Stop it.”

“Make me.” Harry replies petulantly, poking his tongue out at Liam.

Liam raises his eyebrow, before he dives for Harry and tickles him under the armpits, fingers dancing over Harry’s side.

“Stop!” Harry cries, giggling, trying to be quiet. “Stop, stop, ha!”

“Shh!” Liam says, laughing, just as loud as Harry is. 

Harry tries to push Liam off, but just ends up pushing Liam onto the floor, who pulls Harry down with him, landing with a thud. Harry laughs, winded, and rolls off Liam, landing on his back. “What was that for?” He asks, still laughing.

“I didn’t do it on purpose.” Liam replies, also still laughing. He rolls onto his side and leans over to press a kiss to Harry’s mouth. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah fine.” Harry says, nodding his head, curling his hand around the nape of Liam’s neck, pulling him down for another kiss, licking into his mouth. “Are you okay?”

Liam doesn’t answer, he just kisses Harry harder, running his thumb over Harry’s cheekbone. They kiss until Harry’s lips are numb and tingling, and he’s so hard he thinks he might explode, come from a single touch to his cock.

Harry pulls away to take a breath and blinks up at Liam, smiling softly at him. “I love you.”

“You… really?” Liam asks, eyes wide. “I love you, too.” He kisses Harry again, but this time, harder, sliding on top of Harry and straddling his waist. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Harry chuckles and takes Liam’s face in his hands as they kiss. “I love you, too. Now stop being such a weirdo.”

“Never.” Liam grins, eyes wrinkled at the corner. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, weirdo.”

“I’ll never stop saying that, especially when you say it back.” Liam replies, pressing kiss after kiss to Harry’s mouth. “Bedtime?”

“Yeah, alright.” Harry nods.

Liam climbs to his feet and helps Harry up after him, then turns the TV off before leading Harry upstairs. They get undressed and climb into bed, where they kiss again, Harry lying on top of Liam with the blanket pooled around his waist, holding himself up with his forearms on either side of Liam’s head.

“I love you.” Harry says, his forehead pressed to Liam’s.

“Replay.”

“It’ll lose its meaning if I say it too many times.” Harry replies, chuckling softly. “I love you.”

Their mouths meet again, and Liam fits his hands into the back of Harry’s briefs, squeezing his arse, holding him closer. Liam’s hard, too, and Harry grinds up into him, growing harder with every thrust.

“Can I suck you off?” Liam whispers softly, cheeks red, flushed and embarrassed.

“Can you fuck me?” Harry says in answer, raising an eyebrow at Liam.

“Did you… really?”

“Fuck yes.” Harry replies, nodding his head vigorously. “Do you have lube? And a condom?”

“Probably in the drawer. Does lube go off? And condoms?”

“God knows.” Harry replies, reaching over to the bedside table, pulling open the top drawer and blinking inside. Under stacks of paper and a few pens and pencils, is a tube of lube and a packet of condoms.

Harry gets them both naked before Liam lays him down and gets between his thighs, taking the lube off Harry to slick up his fingers.

Liam’s slow with it, fingering Harry until he’s begging, and his cock is dripping precome onto his belly. Every time Liam’s fingers reach Harry’s prostate, Harry’s toes curl and he moans into his fist, clenched against his mouth.

When Liam finally gets his cock in Harry, Harry can’t hold it in anymore, the noises, the love he’s had building up inside him for four years, he has to bite into Liam’s shoulder to keep it all in, leaving a dark purple mark in his flesh.

“Shh, shh, you gotta be quiet.” Liam whispers, thrusting his cock into Harry, pressing a soft kiss to Harry’s throat. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” Harry whispers, pulling Liam into a kiss, moaning into his mouth when he comes.

Liam comes soon after, before they collapse together, panting. 

“I love you.” Liam says softly.

“Replay.” Harry says cheekily.

“I love you, you dork. Tissue?”

Liam pulls out of him with a slick sound and reaches over to the bedside table for a couple tissues, wiping Harry’s belly and putting the tissue on the bedside table. He pulls off the condom, ties it and takes it and the tissue to the bin under the desk.

“Do you want some pants?” Liam asks, opening his bag and pulling out a clean pair of briefs, tugging them on. He gets a pair of joggers and pulls them on, too.

“Yeah. Briefs.” Harry answers, nodding his head. Liam helps him into a pair, and they climb into bed together, Liam around Harry’s back, his hands around Harry.

“I love you.”

Harry laughs, pressing a kiss to Liam’s hand while Liam kisses Harry’s shoulder. “You’re mental. I love you, too.”


	7. Part Seven

**Monday, January 19th, 2015**

“That tickles.” Harry mumbles sleepily as Liam presses kisses to Harry’s shoulder, neck, throat and the knobs of Harry’s spine. “Stop it.”

“Morning.” Liam replies, voice vibrating against Harry’s throat, just below Harry’s ear. “I made breakfast.”

“What time is it?” Harry replies, blinking his eyes open and staring at the alarm clock on the bedside table. “Shit, I slept in? I’ve got work.”

“Marcie called, store’s closed today. Pipe broke in the office.” Liam replies, kissing Harry’s shoulder again.

“Pipe broke? I need to go help her.” Harry tries to get up, but Liam pulls him back down again.

“She can’t go in either.” Liam replies. “She’s gonna call you tonight about setting up the stall until it’s fixed. For today, we get you all to ourselves.”

Harry nods his head and relaxes into Liam’s arms. “Where are the girls?”

“They’re downstairs in the lounge room.” Liam replies, settling his hand low on Harry’s belly, pressing another soft kiss to Harry’s shoulder. “I made pancakes and bacon.”

“You did?” Harry asks, turning onto his other side, facing Liam. “You are fantastic, I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Liam replies, pressing a kiss to Harry’s mouth. “Now, c’mon, breakfast.”

Liam helps him off the bed and they climb down the stairs to the kitchen, loading their plates with bacon, eggs and pancakes, and one with just pancakes for Rhea, before taking them into the lounge room.

They spend the day in their pyjamas in front of the couch, not doing much of anything at all. They curl up on the couch, under piles and piles of blankets, watching every Disney movie available on Netflix and stuffing themselves with takeaway and crisps and lollies. It’s just really nice.

Marcie calls after Liam’s called in for Chinese, and Harry takes it into the kitchen. They talk about the burst pipe and setting up the stall in front of the shop, or maybe getting a licence to set up at the Camden markets.

“Harry? Harry!” Liam cries from the lounge room.

“What?” Harry replies, bolting back into the room. “What?” Liam’s standing, pointing down at the floor, watching Dahlia.

She’s crawling.

“Marcie, I gotta go.” He ends the call and shoves his phone in his pocket, dropping to his knees. “Dahlia, baby, c’mere. Come to daddy.”

Dahlia crawls to Harry and lands on her bum in front of him, giggling through hands pressed to her face. 

“You did so well, Dahlia!” Harry tells her, grinning and picking her up to press a few dozen kisses to her face. He puts her back down and says, “Go to daddy.”

Liam squats down and holds his arms out for Dahlia. “Come here, sweetheart.”

Harry takes a video of Dahlia crawling over to Liam and into his hands, of Liam picking her up and pressing a kiss to her mouth. “You’re so fantastic.”

Rhea runs over to Liam and reaches up with one hand while holding onto Liam’s leg with the other. “Me now, me now, daddy!”

“Alright.” Liam says, chuckling. “Go sit in front of the couch.”

Rhea does, and Liam lowers Dahlia back onto the floor, a couple feet from Rhea. “Go to Rhea, Dahlia, go to your big sister.”

She does, and Harry catches it all on his phone. He sends it to Liam’s phone, and then to his mum, his sister, Nick and Marcie.

The takeaway comes soon after, and Harry goes to get it while Liam posts the video on Instagram. 

They eat in front of Aladdin, and Harry watches the comments and likes flood Liam’s Instagram. Almost all of the comments are nice, congratulations and kind platitudes, and the ones that aren’t, he’s too happy to take them to heart.

-*-*-

**Sunday, February 1st, 2015**

Harry wakes on his birth to Liam’s mouth on his throat, and a hand around his cock, jerking him off slowly and loosely, not enough to get him off, just enough to get him hard.

“Morning.” Harry says, voice gravelly from sleep and amused, fucking his hips into Liam’s fist.

“Happy birthday.” Liam whispers softly, sucking a bruise into the curve of Harry’s neck. Harry whimpers and thrusts his hips again, turning his face to catch Liam’s mouth in a kiss. 

Liam takes his hand from Harry’s cock, which earns him an annoyed whine, then tugs Harry on top of him. 

Harry sits up, with his arse on Liam’s crotch, where he’s hard and throbbing, and runs his fingers through his hair, brushing it from his eyes. “I like it up here.” He tells Liam with a chuckle, grinding back against Liam.

Liam curves his hands around Harry’s hips and grins up at him. “Want to ride me, birthday boy?”

Harry snorts. “Like you have any choice. S’my birthday.” He grins at Liam and wiggles his hips slowly, back and forth against Liam’s cock.

“Well?” Liam asks, fingertips pressing bruises into Harry’s flesh.

“This is fine for now.” Harry replies, leaning down to kiss Liam and reach over to the bedside table for the lube and a condom. He manages to wriggle out of his pants and get Liam out of his, groaning into Liam’s mouth when their cocks meet. “D’you wanna do it, or do you want me to do it?”

“It’s your birthday,” Liam says, laughing. “Get on your belly, I’m gonna eat you out first.”

“Oh.” Harry says, cheeks pink, rolling off of Liam and onto his belly, up on his knees with his thighs spread.

“Fuck, Harry.” Liam groans, moving around so he’s behind Harry, taking his arse in both hands and squeezing. “Fuck.” He stares for so long Harry thinks he might hit him, just to get him to work.

Harry turns his head, cheek pressed into the mattress, and looks at Liam with a raised eyebrow. “Well.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Liam says, getting his thumbs on Harry’s hole, pulling his cheeks apart and leaning down to lick a thick stripe over the puckered hole.

They’d never done this the first time they were together, and Harry doesn’t know why, he’s _so fucking good at it_.

“Jesus.” Harry whimpers, clenching the sheets in his hands, his toes curling as Liam licks into him. “Fuck, that’s so good, Liam.”

Liam’s tongue gets him shaking and needy, babbling nonsense into the sheets. Fingers join Liam’s tongue, dripping with lube, preparing him, before he pulls away, leaving Harry panting and hot all over. “Still wanna ride me? Or do you wanna stay where you are?”

“On top.” Harry replies, climbing to his knees and leaning over to press a kiss to Liam’s mouth.

Liam gets on his back and Harry climbs over him, settling in his lap. He takes Liam’s cock in his hand and presses it to his hole, sliding down slowly, toes curling into Liam’s thighs. 

Harry rides him until his thighs are aching and he just can’t anymore, collapsing on top of Liam and letting him take over. Liam gets his knees up, planting his feet in the mattress and fucks up into Harry until he’s whining and begging, biting into Liam’s shoulder.

Liam comes first, but fucks Harry through it, to his own orgasm.

“I love you, Harry.” Liam says softly as they’re coming down, foreheads pressed together, panting into each other’s mouths.

Harry kisses him and smiles. “Love you, too. Can I have pancakes?”

Liam laughs, nodding his head. “And bacon, too. I know the drill.”

“I _really_ love you.” Harry says, grinning, sliding off of Liam with a slick sound, rolling off the bed and landing on his feet on the floor. He wets a facewash and cleans off his belly before taking it back to the bed to clean off Liam. “Breakfast now.”

Liam kisses Harry and says, “Breakfast.”

-*-*-

**Wednesday, March 4th, 2015**

It’s late when Liam calls him, way past midnight while Harry’s in bed with Rhea curled up around his back. She’d had a nightmare, and wet the bed, and after Harry had changed her pyjamas and her sheets, she’d begged him to let her sleep with him.

The blaring of his ringtone gives him an immediate headache, and he wants to ignore it, but he blinks his eyes open to just look at it, and it’s Liam. Liam never calls this early in the morning unless it’s absolutely necessary.

Liam’s crying. Harry’s never heard him cry before. Never. Even when they broke up this first time.

“Liam? Liam, what’s wrong?” Harry asks, sitting up, turning the bedside lamp on and picking up his watch to check the time. It’s three thirty-two, which means it’s the middle of the day in Japan.

Liam can’t manage to speak through his cries, loud, uncontrollable sobs, and Harry’s heart breaks for him.

“Liam, babe, tell me what’s wrong.”

“Zayn.” Is all Liam can say.

“Zayn? What about Zayn? Has something happened to Zayn?” Harry asks, climbing out of bed and walking into the bathroom so he doesn’t wake Rhea up.

“Zayn’s leaving.” Liam manages.

“What’s happened?” Harry asks, leaning back against the sink.

“He’s leaving the band.” Liam replies. “He says he can’t do it anymore. I don’t know what to do, Harry. I don’t want him to go.”

“I know, Liam. I know you don’t. But maybe it’s best for him.” Harry says, as soothingly as he can. “Maybe it’s best for all of you.”

“S’not.” Liam says, whinges. “I want him to stay.”

“I know you do, Liam, but if he wants to leave and you make him stay, it’s going to make things a hundred times worse. Do you want him in the band, or do you want him to be happy?”

Liam doesn’t speak for a long time, he just hiccups and sighs, and then finally he says. “Stop being so sensible, be unsensible with me.”

“Unsensible isn’t a word, Liam.” Harry tells him with a soft chuckle. “It’s my job to be sensible when everyone else has lost it. That’s what being a dad’s about.”

“I’m a dad, too.”

“A novice, but you’ll get more sensible over time. Enjoy the irresponsibility while you still can.”

“I love you, Harry Styles.” Liam says, softly.

“I love you, too, Liam Payne.” Harry replies with a chuckle. “Do me a favour, okay? I want you and Niall and Louis and Zayn to talk about this, properly. Don’t try to talk him out of it, just listen to his reasons, understand and don’t judge. Okay?”

“Yeah, alright. I really love you, y’know.” Liam replies.

“I know, and I really love you, too.” Harry replies. “I have to go now, okay? I have work tomorrow.”

“Okay, I’m sorry for waking you up.”

“S’fine, Liam. I’ll talk you later, yeah?”

“Yeah, alright.” Liam replies, and then he says one last _I love you_ before he hangs up.

He leaves his phone on the bedside table and goes to check on Dahlia, lifting her from her cot carefully, taking her to his bedroom and lying her between himself and Rhea. He falls back to sleep after that, wrapped around his girls, worrying about Liam.

-*-*-

**Friday, March 20th, 2015**

Harry visits Zayn after work when he gets back from Asia, Dahlia with him while Rhea's having a sleepover at Marcie's

Zayn looks awful when he answers the door, bags under his eyes, skin pale, in tattered, low slung joggers and a t-shirt that looks like it may have once been white. 

"You look awful." Harry tells him, before he can stop himself. "Sorry. Are you okay?"

"What are you doing here?" Zayn asks, running his fingers through greasy hair.

"Didn't your mother ever teach you to be polite to guests?" Harry jokes. "I thought you could use some baby time. You really do look awful."

"You just want me to look after Dahlia." Zayn jokes after a long pause, a his face a little softer. 

He holds his arms out for Dahlia, but Harry shakes his head. "First, you're going to take a shower and put on some clean clothes while I make tea, and then you get baby time."

Zayn looks like he's going to argue, so Harry puts on his best _dad face_ , and he sighs and nods.

Harry orders Thai while Zayn's in the shower, making tea and tidying the kitchen while Dahlia naps on the couch in the lounge room that faces him. Zayn reappears after a half an hour freshly showered and dressed in clean clothes, towelling off his hair.

"You cleaned my kitchen?"

"Just a little?" Harry replies, shrugging, handing Zayn his tea. "I ordered Thai as well. I wasn't quite sure what you liked so I got a bit of everything."

Zayn looks completely confused, and Harry can't blame him. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why are you here?"

"If that's how you feel, I'll just go then." Harry jokes. "I'm kidding. I'm here to keep you company."

"Keep me company?" Zayn asks, eyebrow raised. 

"Mm-hmm." Harry answers, nodding his head, taking a sip of his tea.

"Keep me company. Right. Liam asked you to check in on me."

"No, actually. He doesn't know I'm here. Did this all by my lonesome." Harry lies shrugging his shoulders. 

"Liar." Zayn snorts.

The doorbell rings, and Harry puts down his tea and finds his wallet to answer it, paying the delivery man and taking the Thai back into the kitchen.

Zayn puts on _The Walking Dead_ while they eat, arguing affably about zombie movies and shows, and whether or not the zombie apocalypse could and would actually happen. When they're finished, Harry takes the plates, cutlery and cups to the kitchen, and makes a bottle for Dahlia when she wakes up.

Zayn spends his baby time trying to teach Dahlia how to say _Uncle Zayn_ , and drawing animals for her to colour in (or colour on, as the case may be). Harry puts _Mulan_ on on Netflix and Zayn surprises him by knowing every word to every song, singing it all to entertain Dahlia.

Dahlia falls asleep not long after _Mulan_ finishes and when _Brave_ starts Zayn follows closely behind, head lolled against the back of the couch with Dahlia cradled in his arms. Harry takes a photo and sends it to Liam, with _He's doing okay_ written underneath.

He turns the TV off and cleans the kitchen while Zayn and Dahlia sleep, taking a gander upstairs for something to do. In the third room on the right, after peaking in two spare bedrooms, a bathroom and a study, Harry's bombarded with the smell of spray paint, turpentine and charcoal. 

He flicks the light on.

Liam had mentioned that Zayn liked to paint and draw, and Harry had seen it first hand, but this is a whole other ballgame. The walls are covered in graffiti and the floor's covered in paints and spray cans and canvases and pencils and sketch books. It's amazing.

A section of the wall opposite the door's been painted white, recently, maybe an hour or so before Harry arrived, and Harry suspects it's got something to do with Zayn's departure from the band. Either Zayn's covering something up that he doesn't want to think about, or he's making room for something knew.

He touches the paint gingerly, and when his fingers come up dry, he looks around the floor at his feet for a clean paint brush and a little bit of paint. In the top right corner of the white spot, Harry draws a mediocre rose, about the size of his palm, and underneath it, he writes a Malcolm de Chazal quote , _The flower in the vase smiles, but no longer laughs_. He underlines it, and then writes, with more paint on the brush, _Now you can laugh again_.

He puts the paintbrush in a glass of murky water, turns the light off and shuts the door.

The last door is Zayn's bedroom, right at the end of the hallway, like Harry suspected, and Harry only peaks, because looking into Zayn's bedroom feels a bit like reading his diary, and Harry feels guilty just thinking about it.

Back downstairs, Zayn's moved from his upright position, and is now lying on his side on the couch, Dahlia on her back next to him, a blanket slung over them. Harry doesn't want to wake them, so he climbs back into the armchair, turns Netflix back on and watches a couple _Misfits_ episodes before he's asleep, too.

-*-*-

**Thursday, April 2nd, 2015**

Harry's watching a rerun of the latest episode of _Supernatural_ , up the loudest it can go without waking the girls, stuffing his face full of popcorn, when Liam appears in the doorway, lit only by the glow of the TV, scaring the utter fuck out of Harry. He drops the bowl of popcorn and swears, then holds a finger up at Liam and makes a _shushing_ noise.

"Look at this man, who even is Jensen Ackles." Harry says, waving Liam over.

Liam climbs onto the couch next to Harry with a chuckle and tries to save some of the popcorn, shoving a handful in his mouth.

"Liam, baby, I love you, but given the chance, I would definitely leave you for Jensen Ackles." Harry jokes, turning to grin at Liam.

"Same." Liam says, as Dean passes out in the spa's kitchen. "I love you, but same."

"This calls for a threesome!" Harry announces, giggling. "Or even better, you, me, Jensen Ackles and Misha Collins. And Rachel Minor, oh god, I'd go straight for Rachel Minor."

"You've lost me." Liam says, eyebrows pulled together in confusion.

"Misha is Castiel and Rachel is Meg, season five to eight Meg."

"Ah." Liam replied, nodding his head, leaning back into the couch and shoving another handful of popcorn in his mouth. He takes another handful and holds it out for Harry, who eats its out of his hand without taking his eyes off the telly. "Nice. Very gentlemanly."

Harry chews and swallows the popcorn and then licks at Liam's hand.

"Gross." Liam laughs, wiping his hands on his jeans. "C'mere." He curls his arm around Harry's shoulders and pulls him backwards, into him.

Harry rests his head on Liam's shoulder. "Ha! I knew it was him. He was too creepy for it not to be him." He grins up at Liam and says, "Hi."

"Hey."

"You're early."

"Three days, I know." Liam replies, nodding his head.

Harry bumps his head into Liam's jaw and says, "I missed you."

"I missed you, too." Liam replies, pressing a soft kiss to Harry's temple and squeezing him closer. "You tired?"

"No, what are you thinking?" Harry asks, curling his hand around Liam's thigh.

Liam puts the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table and pushes Harry about until he's lying on his back with Liam on top of him. "A little bit of welcome home sex?"

Harry grins. "Yes, please."

Liam kisses Harry, hand around his cheek, licking into his mouth and Harry winds his arms around Liam's neck.

"Kept thinking about you on the flight home, got so hard I had to cover myself with a pillow." Liam whispers into Harry's mouth before making his way down to his throat, sucking a mark into his skin. "Thought about that time in the mini golf toilets, when I fucked you on the sink. The noises you made when I pushed into you."

"Jesus Christ." Harry groans, bearing his throats even more to Liam's touch, cock hard and pressed into Liam's. "I remember climbing into your bed in the middle of the night in almost nothing under the pretence of watching telly. I don't know how you didn't get it the minute I started pulling my clothes off, but..." Harry shrugs and grins, squeezing his hand around the back of Liam's head softly and nipping at his ear while Liam laughs against his throat.

"It didn't even take all that long to get to the good stuff." Liam replies. "Like, us, it was, what? Four days."

"We were horny teenagers." Harry says, mournfully, like remembering an old friend. Then he laughs. "Very, _very_ horny."

Liam lifts himself up in to his forearms and says, joking offended, "Hey, I'll have you know that I'm still a very horny teenager. In spirit."

"You're such a dork." Harry laughs, pulling Liam back down and kissing him thoroughly. 

They lose their clothes eventually, and Liam produces a condom and a bottle of lube out of _nowhere_. Harry gets them flipped over so he's on top and Liam's underneath him, and fingers himself before putting a condom on Liam's cock and slicking him up.

Harry's toes curl as he pushes down onto Liam, neck arched and throat bared. Liam gets his hands around Harry's hips and slides one up his belly and rib cage to cup Harry's cheek as he starts to lift himself up and lower himself down.

"I'm getting deja vu, right now, getting flung back to the first time, when I fingered myself and rode you." Harry says, sucking the thumb Liam has on his cheek into his mouth, biting down on it softly.

"You look so good, Harry, on my cock." Liam says, groaning into the air, staring up at Harry with something like stars in his eyes. "God, you look so good."

Harry grinds his hips into Liam's and whimpers around his thumb. 

He rides Liam until his thighs are burning and and he's so, so close to coming, and then begs Liam to flip them over and fuck him, which he does. He gets Harry on his back, folding his leg up against his belly and fucking into him, sucking a mark into his throat.

"Fuck, keep going, I'm so close. Fuck me." Harry says, hands threaded tightly in Liam's hair. 

His back arches when he comes, and he moans up into the ceiling, spilling onto his belly. Liam follows soon after, and they collapse together on the couch, panting and sweaty, Liam's face in the curve of Harry's throat.

"I'm glad you're back." Harry says, holding Liam close, panting into his hair. "I missed you a lot."

"I missed you, too, baby." Liam replies, pressing kisses to Harry's jaw, neck, throat and shoulders. "I'm here for a while, now, and soon forever."

"Promise?"

"Swear it." Liam answers, nodding his head, smiling softly at Harry. "I love you, Harry."

"I love you, too, Liam."

-*-*-

**Friday, April 17th, 2015**

Harry wakes on Rhea’s birthday to laughing and singing coming from downstairs, the static of a radio, a male’s voice and a child’s. Dahlia’s curled up around his side, snuffling into his arm as she sleeps, and he doesn’t remember how she got there. He carefully extracts his arm from underneath her and sits up, running his fingers through his hair.

He checks the time on his phone and pulls it out of the charger, shoving it in the pocket of his joggers and carefully lifting Dahlia off the bed, into his arms, making sure not to wake her up. He takes her downstairs and into the kitchen where Liam and Rhea are singing, really rather loudly, along to the radio, along to Fifth Harmony’s _Worth It_. Liam’s spinning Rhea around in his arms, and they’re both laughing, and it makes Harry’s face ache from smiling so hard.

“Morning.” Harry says, putting Dahlia in her bouncer on the floor and draping himself over Liam’s back and pressing a kiss to his cheek, and another to Rhea’s. “I heard it was someone’s birthday.”

“Mine, mine, mine!” Rhea says, giggling, excited, reaching over to tug at Harry’s hair.

“Is it? I thought it was mine!”

“No!” Rhea says, then turns around and says, “Daddy make breakfast. Special Breakfast.”

“Ooh, a special breakfast?” Harry asks, peering past Liam and Rhea to find four plates of pancakes with bananas, maple syrup and ice cream, one baby-sized, cut into small squares, one toddler sized, cut into bigger small squares, and two adult sized. “It is a special breakfast. It’s a birthday breakfast.” Dahlia mumbles something unintelligible, like she’s waking up, and Harry pulls himself off of Liam and leans down to pick her up. “Just in time, sweetheart. Daddy made breakfast.”

Dahlia blinks sleepily at Harry before her small mouth turns up into a smile.

“Yeah, hi, baby.” Harry says, smiling right back at her, pressing kisses to her cheeks, forehead, nose, chin and mouth. “Hi, daddy made breakfast. Yummy food for your tummy.” He tickles her and she giggles.

The eat at the kitchen counter, and then Liam and the girls watch morning cartoons while Harry gets ready for work. He showers and dresses, and puts his hair up in a bun before shoving the things he needs into his shoulder bag, taking the containers of leftover chicken alfredo for himself and Marcie, and kissing Liam and the girls on the forehead.

Harry’s surprised to find himself the first one at the shop, so he starts to open up without Marcie, putting the buckets of bouquets outside the front of the shop. 

Marcie texts to tell him that she’ll be late, so he sets about getting everything ready by himself, and then waits behind the counter for the first customer to arrive. It’s an elderly man and his wife, and they giggle and blush while they search for a bouquet, telling Harry that it’s their sixtieth anniversary, and that they’d gotten married when they were eighteen.

“Do you have a lady?” The woman asks.

Harry laughs. “No, not quite?”

“A lad then?” The man asks, and Harry nods. “Have you been together long?”

“Only about a year. Six months or so when we were sixteen and the last six months.” Harry answers, shrugging. “Maybe a little longer.”

“Are you in love with him?”

Harry nods. “Yeah. Yeah.”

They pick their bouquet and Harry rings it up for them, and when they’re gone, he texts Liam _I love you_.

_I love you, too, pet_

-*-*-

**Saturday, May 2nd, 2015**

When Harry wakes up, Rhea’s asleep on his stomach, her hair in his mouth, Lucifer’s on the pillow above his head and Dahlia’s curled into his side. Liam’s at the desk in the corner of the room, Harry can see him just over the top of Rhea’s head, and he says, quiet enough that he won’t wake up the girls, but loud enough for Liam to hear him, “Why am I covered in children?”

Liam looks back at him and smiles. “Morning. Lucy was there when I woke up and the girls were on my side, but they kind of moved on top of you in their sleep.”

“What are you doing over there? Why aren’t you cuddling, too?”

“Just got a couple of emails to send. Almost done.” Liam replies, turning back to his laptop, fingers clicking on the keyboard. Harry watches him until he looks back and smiles. “Alright, I’ll finish them later.” Liam shuts the laptop and climbs onto the bed, leaning down to press a kiss to Harry’s mouth. “Hey, baby.”

“When’s the flight, again?” Harry asks, reaching over to run his fingers through Liam’s hair.

“We’re meeting everyone at Farnborough at three.”

“Not Heathrow?”

Liam shakes his head. “No, we’re taking a jet, now that Louis’s coming with his siblings.”

Harry nods, running his thumb over Liam’s cheekbone. “Love you.”

Liam smiles softly. “Love you, too, pet.”

“I think we should get up, baby.”

Liam nods and asks, “Go out for breakfast?”

“Yeah, that sounds like a plan.”

They eat breakfast at _Leyas_ , then spend the morning following around a tour guide at The British Museum. Rhea enjoys the Egyptian exhibits more than anything, staring at the mummies with her face and hands pressed to the glass. 

Once the tour’s over, they go home for lunch and finish packing for Disneyland, before calling a car to the airport. Marcie, Madeline, Isobel, Louis and his siblings, the youngest set of twins, Ernest and Doris are already on the plane, and Rhea takes an instant liking to them. They wait almost twenty minutes for Lou, Caroline and their daughters before they set off.

They stay in the same hotel Liam and Harry were in the last time they were here, and they stay in the same hotel room while the others take a family room each. 

Once Harry’s gotten the girls down for a nap, he curls his arms around Liam, presses a kiss to his mouth and says. “You know what we should do while we’re here?”

“What?”

“Have sex in that bloody bathtub.” Harry says, chuckling. “I thought about it, y’know. Later, when we got together, but also when I was sitting in it.”

Liam’s eyes glaze over a bit and he says, “Yeah, I, uh. Can we do that now?”

Harry laughs. “Go fill the tub, I’m going to order wine and something else romantic or whatever.”

Liam laughs, too and kisses Harry softly. “Love you, pet.”

“Love you, too.”

He and Liam separate, and Harry calls room service for a bottle of merlot, berries and melted chocolate. By the time a bell boy’s brought it up, the tub’s been filled and Liam’s down to his pants.

“You’re going to scare the poor boy half to death.” Harry laughs to him while he’s signing for the food. He takes the tray from the bell boy and tips him before he shuts the door, taking the food to the bathroom and setting it on the sink. Liam slides into the tub while Harry gets undressed, and then he follows him.

“Hi, pet.” Liam says softly while Harry climbs on top of him, his thighs on either side of Liam’s. 

“Hey.” Harry kisses him, curling his arms around Liam’s shoulders, running his fingers through the hair at the nape of Liam’s neck. Harry’s already hard, he can’t help it, not with Liam so close, so warm and firm against him. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Liam replies, voice soft, curling his arms around Harry’s waist. “I’m so, so in love with you, Harry, you’ve no idea.”

“I think I have a pretty good idea, yeah.” Harry replies, pressing his palm over Liam’s heart. He kisses Liam again and licks into his mouth, chewing on his bottom lip. “Did you get the stuff?”

“The stuff?” Liam chuckles. “Do you mean the lube and a condom?”

“Yes. I meant the lube and a condom.”

Liam leans over the edge of the bath tub and comes back with the two items, putting it on the edge of the bath tub. He puts a towel over the edge of the bath tub and says, “Lay over there and I’ll lick you out and finger you.”

“Sometimes, I don’t think you even realise you’re saying something ridiculously hot when you say it.” Harry chuckles, pressing another kiss to Liam’s mouth before he climbs off his lap and lies over the edge of the tub.

Liam pulls Harry’s cheeks apart and licks over his hole, fitting a finger in next to his tongue, slick with lube. Liam’s tongue feels like heaven, and Harry shakes with it, reaching his hand back to thread his fingers in Liam’s hair.

After a while, leaning over the tub starts to kinda hurt, so he tugs Liam’s head away by his hair, shoves the towel to the ground and turns around so he’s facing Liam. “I’m done, look at that.” He says, pointing to the red mark on his stomach.

“You okay, pet?”

Harry presses a kiss to Liam’s mouth. “Fine, darling. Put the condom on?”

Harry watches as Liam slides the condom on his cock, and then sits down against the back of the tub. Harry climbs on top of him, finds his cock and slides on top it, moaning against Liam’s collarbone. Liam gets his hands around Harry’s hips and begins to fuck up into him, pressing his mouth to Harry’s.

As Liam fucks up into him, water spills over the edge of the tub, dripping onto the ground. Harry feels hot and tight, like he might snap in half at any moment. 

It’s not very long before they’re both coming, crying out into each other’s mouths then panting. Liam gets rid of the condom while Harry stands up and leans over the side of the tub to reach for the tray. 

They sit in the tub until the water runs cold, Harry between Liam’s legs while they drink wine and eat the berries, giggling like children. They only get out when Dahlia starts to cry for her afternoon bottle.

-*-*-

**Sunday, May 3rd, 2015**

They spend the next day making their way through the park, going on all the rides they can, exploring _Adventure Isle_ , _Alice’s Curious Labyrinth_ , _The Disneyland Railroad_ and the carousel. They eat at _Auberge de Cendrillon_ and Harry gets dozens of photos of the kids with Cinderella and Prince Charming. 

By the time the fireworks are over, every single kid, eldest to youngest, Madeline to Dahlia, is already passed out, or on their way, in arms and prams and on backs. Harry’s got Madeline on his back, snoring softly into his ear, while Liam pushes Dahlia and Rhea’s pram, Marcie holds Isobel, Louis holds Brooklyn, Caroline pushes the twin’s pram, and Lou pushes Lux’s. The adults aren’t much better.

They’d tried to shove a weekend’s worth of activities in a day, and they’re all wearing the exhaustion. All Harry wants to do is get back to the hotel and sleep until their flight tomorrow afternoon. 

Liam has other plans.

“Marcie, could you watch the girls for a few hours tonight? Not too late, maybe eleven or midnight?”

Marcie gives Harry a dirty smirk and agrees. “You got it.”

“What are we doing?” Harry asks, hiking Madeline further up his back when she slips down.

Liam shrugs. “S’a surprise.”

“I hate surprises.”

“I know. But you’ll like this one, I swear.”

Harry looks at him suspiciously, but nods.

When they reach the hotel, and once the girls are in their pyjamas and their teeth are brushed, Harry takes them to Marcie’s room while Liam stays in the room and goes through their clothes.

When Harry’s back, Liam’s lain out two outfits, one for himself and one for Harry. Harry can tell which is which, even though the shirt and the jacket in his pile is Liam’s.

“You going to tell me where we’re going, yet?” Harry asks, watching appreciatively while Liam tugs his shirt off and toes off his sneakers.

“Nope.” Liam replies, looking at the clothes and then at Harry expectantly. “Like I said, it’s a surprise.”

“If you want me out of my clothes, all you have to do is come over here and do it.”

Liam rolls his eyes, then looks at Harry like he’s seriously considering ditching his plans to get Harry naked, but shakes his head. “C’mon, we’ve got a reservation at eight.”

“A reservation?” Harry says, giving in, unbuttoning his shirt and his jeans. When he’s naked, in only his pants, he starts pulling on the clothes Liam's lain out, the jeans, then the shirt, sitting down to pull on his boots. “So we’re going to a restaurant. Shouldn’t you ask for a date before you make it?”

Liam raises his eyebrow at Harry, as if to say _would you have said no?_ and Harry chuckles.

Once they’re both dressed and ready, Liam calls for a car and they’re off, towards the heart of Paris.

The drive takes just under and hour, and the closer they get, the easier it is to figure it out.

“We’re going to the Eiffel Tower? We’re having dinner in or near the Eiffel Tower.” He says, turning from the window to Liam, grinning. “You’re just a big old romantic sap, aren’t you? You look cool, hell you even sound cool, everyone thinks you’re cool, but you’re just a big old dork.”

“You caught me.” Liam laughs as the car stops in front of the tower. He climbs out of the car and jogs over to Harry’s side to open the door and hold his hand out to help Harry out.

“You’re a dork.” Harry tells him, softly bumping his forehead into Liam’s, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek and then one to his mouth. “I love you, you big old dork.”

Liam leads him up the tower to a restaurant called The Jules Verne, which just makes him think of _20,000 Leagues Under The Sea_ and giggle into Liam’s shoulder while he gives his name to the maître d’. 

“What are you giggling about?” Liam asks, amused, as they’re lead to their table. “And you call me a dork.”

“Nothing. Remind me to put _20,000 Leagues Under the Sea_ into the bedtime pile when we get home.” Harry says, taking the seat Liam pulls out for him at their table next to the window. It looks out onto Paris, and Harry stares, entranced, until Liam interrupts him.

“What’s that then?”

“What?” Harry asks, raising his eyebrows.

“ _20,000 Leagues Under The Sea_?”

“Oh,” Harry says, laughing. “It’s a book. Same author as Journey to the Centre of the Earth. Jules Verne.”

“Oh! Like the restaurant?”

“Yeah.” Harry replies, nodding his head smiling softly at Liam.

A waiter appears to take their drink orders and then disappears again, leaving Harry and Liam to look at their menus.

Dinner goes well, and after they’ve finished desert and Liam’s paid (Much to Harry’s displeasure. Liam promised to let him pay next time), they talk a walk further up the Eiffel Tower, almost to the top, leaning over the balcony to watch the city.

Liam gets his arms around Harry and fits his face into his neck, and they just stand there, for what feels like hours.

Harry’s so exhausted, but so, so happy, and he kisses Liam against the railing, whispering _I love you, I love you_ over again, grinning until Liam’s laughing and butting his head against Harry’s.

They take a car back to the hotel, get their girls from Marcie and put them in bed before falling, exhausted, into their own, curling into each other.

Harry whispers it one last time before he’s asleep, “I love you.”

-*-*-

**Thursday, 9th July, 2015**

A month after Liam’s gone back on tour, while he’s in San Diego, Harry’s sitting up in bed at eleven at night waiting for Liam to finish his morning workout and Skype Harry. He’d said he had something important to tell Harry, and admittedly, Harry’s freaking the _fuck_ out.

He stares at the tattoo in the crook of his arm, the sun under the moon. They’d gotten it on Dahlia’s first birthday, like Harry’d gotten Rhea’s on her first birthday, and every time he stares at it he gets this weird feeling that something’s missing.

When Liam finally calls, he’s excited, and Harry feels a weight fall off his shoulders he didn’t even know was there. Liam doesn’t want to talk to him about something bad.

“Baby, I missed you _so_ much, and you won’t _believe_ what’s happened.”

Harry laughs. “Whatsit, then?”

“So, I wanted to surprise you, we’ve been talking about taking a break, the band I mean, and it’s finally happening. You, me and the girls, just us for like _two_ years.” Liam’s face is flushed and he’s grinning so wide and bright it’s like looking into the sun.

“Seriously?”

“Yes! Isn’t it great? I was thinking, too, that maybe we could get a house. Together.”

“You want to move in together?” Harry asks, heart racing. God, he wants it. He wants it so bad, but…

“Yes, definitely! A big place with a garden and a room I can make a studio, a patio, oh and a fireplace, I really, really want a fireplace.”

“Are you… Liam, are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Liam’s face falls and it makes Harry’s heart hurt. “What?”

“I just, Liam, I really don’t want you to feel obliged because we’ve got kids together.”

Liam frowns. “What?” He repeats, eyebrows drawn together, pouting like a confused puppy.

“Liam, how long have we known each other, really known each other? One year? Two?”

“Six, Harry.”

Harry sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. “Those years in between, they don’t count. I fucked up, I know that now, but I don’t want you to do this and then realise in five years’ time you’ve fucked up, too.”

Liam’s frown deepens again. “Harry, this… this is the same argument we had _five fucking years ago_. I am not going to let you get away again. Do you love me?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to be with me?”

“Yes, I’ve already-”

“Do you see us, still together, twenty – thirty – years in the future?” Liam interrupts.

“I don’t know Liam, that’s the problem.”

“Do you want to be with me, thirty years in the future?”

Harry sighs. He feels like they’re going around in circles. “I already said so.”

“Do you remember what I told you, years and years and years ago? I told you – well, I said that I’d want to have sex with you even when I was old and grey,” Harry laughs, because he does remember. It’s the weirdest thing anyone’s ever said to him. “But I also meant I wanted to be with you until I was old and grey. I know that the day I met you. Harry, you’re not like anyone I’ve ever met. You’re intelligent and gorgeous and you’ve got a really nice arse.” Harry laughs again, and it feels a little teary, so he wipes his eyes. “You’re my moon, my sun and all of my stars and I will never, ever let you go. Never. I’m going to marry you one day, Harry Styles, I swear it.”

Harry wipes at his eyes again. “I love you too, you dork. God, I don’t know how anyone can love someone so much, but I do.”

“So, Harry Styles,” Liam begins, grinning bright and wide like he had when they’d begun, like Harry’s very own beam of sunshine. “Will you move in with me?”

“I will.”

Liam smile softens. “Good.”

“Good.” Harry replies, smiling right back at Liam. “I love you, Liam Payne.” And this time, when Harry says it, _love_ doesn’t feel nearly important enough a word for what Harry’s feeling.

“I love you, too, Harry Styles.”


	8. Epilogue

**Saturday, July 22nd, 2017**

Harry wakes when a body climbs into bed behind him, an arm winding around his waist. It’s still dark, Harry can tell even with his eyes closed, but it feels like early morning, three or four o’clock, only an hour or so from sunrise.

Liam – because it’s definitely Liam – presses his face into the curve of Harry’s neck and breathes in before placing a soft kiss to his throat. 

Harry turns onto his other side so he’s facing Liam and curls up into his chest. “It’s bad luck, you know.”

“What is?” Liam asks, voice soft.

“To see me before the wedding.” Harry replies, curling his hands in Liam’s t-shirt.

“I can’t see you, it’s too dark.” Liam tells him, smiling into Harry’s hair. “’Sides, I didn’t come to see you, I came to see Athena.”

Liam leans over Harry and reaches out for the baby sleeping in the bedside cot behind him.

“Rude.” Harry jokes.

Liam uses the arm he’d reached out with to pull Harry closer, wrapping around him tightly. “We’re getting married, today, then?”

“We have. Did you forget so soon? Had too much to drink last night, lad?”

Liam giggles. “There were shots. Purple Nurples, they tasted like peach schnapps.”

Harry laughs with him.

“It’s weird, being back here, don’t you think? After, what? Seven years?” Liam says softly, after they’ve calmed down.

“Torquay?” Harry replies. “Nah. I think it’s exactly where we’re supposed to be.”

Liam gives a soft chuckle. “I love you, Harry Styles.”

Harry wiggles up so they’re laying down at the same height and presses his forehead to Liam’s head, as best he can in the dark. “I love you, Liam Payne, you big old dork.”

“Your big old dork.”

Harry hums. “My big old dork.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate this bloody thing. It stole six good months off my life. But if you like it, please send me kudos and comments and in return, you will receive a cookie!


End file.
